Dragon Age: Aftershock
by T.K. Edwards
Summary: Set in the aftermath of the Fifth Blight, Tomas Cousland survived killing the Archdemon without Morrigan's Dark Ritual. But surviving has marked his soul forever. In Orlais, Elven Grey Warden, Sidona Andras is assigned to advises the Empress of Orlais in the Imperial Court regarding the recent Blight. She finds herself drawn into a conspiracy that could change the face of Thedas.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Bioware and EA own the Dragon Age franchise not me. So please don't sue._

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CHAPTER ONE

Atop Fort Drakon, the Archdemon roared a mighty roar of pain. It had fallen to only two Grey Wardens they had rallied the people of Fereldan to engage the darkspawn horde. The mighty dragon—if it could still be called that—collapsed, its wings cut to pieces it wouldn't be escaping now. Alastair turned to the other Warden, and looked at him with such sorrow, the Archdemon sensed that they knew what happened to the Warden that struck the killing blow.

"So…which one of us should do the deed?" Alistair asked, looking behind the other Warden at the Archdemon.

The Archdemon was exhausted, the fight had consumed all its dark powers, and it was— for the time— helpless.

"Don't fret my friend. I will be the one to strike the blow. May the Maker watch over me." The Warden said, he turned so fast that Alistair couldn't stop him. Running towards the Archdemon, the Warden pulled out his great-sword, Ageless, from a darkspawn's corpses that it had been sunk it into much earlier in the battle. The Archdemon regained some movement and positioned itself to lunge at the oncoming Warden. Time seemed to slow down for the Warden as he approached the great tainted Old God, he sensed the creature call out for…mercy?

Is this what Garahel heard when he slew an Archdemon? The Warden thought, he ignored the cry for mercy. The Archdemon opened its mouth and lunged, the Warden crouched and propped his swords up into the tainted beasts neck using the force of the beasts own attack to wound it further creating a long gaping wound in its neck, its final desperate act mortally wounded it. The beasts head, crumpled back onto the ground its head now in front of the Warden, blood quickly seeped out of its gaping neck wound. The Warden looked at the fallen beast, this was the creature that began the Fifth Blight almost half a year ago, the creature that lead the Darkspawn horde to Ostagar and now the beast was half dead. Only half dead.

The Warden considered for a moment the implications of the death that awaited when the final blow was administered. What of Fereldan? Would she recover from the Blight? So many questions that there were only answers for if one were to live past the Archdemon's death. The tainted god snarled, the wound on its neck began to heal its pale white eye opened and looked at the Warden. Without a second thought the Warden roared and violently impaled the Archdemon in the eye with his sword.

The act was met with a glowing white light, the light covered the Archdemon's body, and suddenly began to envelop the Warden as well. Alastair, Leliana, Sten and Wynne looked on as the Warden struggled to keep his blade in place, the Archdemon was not dead yet and they were helpless to assist their friend for fear that the Archdemon might be born anew.

The Warden felt when the Archdemon's soul entered his body, it was not a pleasant feeling. The pain was near unbearable, the creature tried its best to extinguish the Warden's soul time and time again. Time didn't feel important not when an Old God was attempting to take over. It felt like an eternal struggle, the Warden felt his and the Old God's life force ebbing away as they struggle against one another. The Warden was so close to death, the cold embrace of death was all around. It was a strange feeling. A feeling of a well-deserved death. The Warden protected many lives on the journey to unite the land against a great and evil threat. Grey Warden protected the innocent and fight against injustice no matter from Darkspawn or human.

The Warden embraced the Grey Warden philosophy early on and followed it up until now. Yet something felt…off.

There was so much yet unfinished. So much that still needed to be done so much that the Warden couldn't ignore. The Warden held on to what little life force remained, the memories of the good times shared with friend, and loved ones. The Warden held on tightly to these feelings and memories holding on as the soul of the Old God began to be destroyed. And then the Archdemon exploded sending the Warden flying way from the centre of the explosion. The explosion could be seen from all of Denerim, it hailed the end of the Blight the Darkspawn fled from the city in the middle of the battle, now afraid at the loss of the Old Gods call.

The army killed many of the fleeing Darkspawn as they could, the horde fled as fast as they could even ignoring injuries that were sustained during the fighting. Humans, elves, dwarfs and mages rejoiced as the Darkspawn ran away with their tails between their legs—so to speak.

Bann Teagan, looked on at Fort Drakon the purple explosion that illuminated the orange-red sky above was gone. Smoke raised high into the sky, Teagan wondered, what had happened up there? It had been three hours since the Darkspawn retreat his heart sank at the thought of the loss King Alistair, no word was sent about the kings fate, and rumors had begun to quickly circle around the Redcliffe soldiers, that Alistair was slain by a Darkspawn before even arriving at Fort Drakon. Teagan held onto the hope that the kings fellow Grey Warden had shielded him for the killing blow. He cursed himself for thinking that way. After all the Warden went through to unite the lands against Loghain and to focus their attention on the Blight, the idea of the Warden dying shamed the memory of the men and women who had already laid down their lives following him. Besides, Alistair was a Grey Warden to he had been fighting Darkspawn longer than any of the soldiers here.

After three hours of waiting, word finally reached Teagan, an Elven massager arrived with a message for all. "The King lives the Archdemon is dead. But the Warden—" The Elf froze, he did not want to bare the news not now, not when the Warden's fate was so—uncertain.

"Well out with it boy!" Teagan snapped.

"He is critical condition. The mages believe he is dying." The Elf said, raising his arms to protect his face from a blow that did not come.

The poor lad. He had been raised in the service of Arl Urien Kendells' son Vaughan, who—before his capture by Arl Rendon Howe—beat the Elf's from the Alienage and raped their women all to satisfy his twisted desires. There was no use trying to calm the lad down, he would have to wait until he calmed down before he asked another question. Luckily, that was long the boy noticed that he wasn't in pain and relaxed.

"Dying? How bad are the injuries?" Teagan asked.

"That's the thing…there is no wound on the Warden, only a few minor cuts. Not enough to kill a person. The mages have moves him to a make shift hospice in Fort Drakon. King Alistair asked that you come at once."

"A hospice, is that really necessary?" Teagan pressed.

"It was the Kings order I believe."

It had taken at least an hour to get to Fort Drakon. Denerim was still in chaos, much of the main routes through the city were either blocked off with rubble or filled with the corpse of the dead—both human and Darkspawn. The Chantry begrudgingly allowed the Mages from the Circle Tower to help heal the injured under strict Templar supervision. Tensions between Mage and Templars didn't help one bit, Teagan and his men had to intervene in Chantry matters several times.

The fort was a mess to say the least, four hours and the place still looked like a battlefield. Bodies lying around some propped up on wooden spikes and half eaten, a horrible fate. Teagan wouldn't even wish that fate on his enemies. Eamon's forces secured the fort, a few of his men barged through the entrance carrying the bodies of dead soldiers to be giving a proper funeral with all the rites from the Chantry to see their souls off to the Makers side. Teagan noticed a few men hauling off Darkspawn bodies off to some place, presumably to be burned to ashes.

Moving through the large metal doors of the fort Tegan and his men were surprised to see Eamon and Alistair talking in the "lobby" as it came to be known under Loghain's rule as regent.

"No! I refuse to believe it!" Alistair yelled, turning his back on Arl Eamon.

"Alistair…the Warden is dead. Accept that fact and move on."

"No! You shall it with your own eyes. The breath…"

"You're the only one who saw that. The mages themselves said that the Warden is dead."

Alistair sighed. It had been a long, long day for all he knew he could have saw his friend draw breath. He knew that a Grey Warden who slays and Archdemon would die, he just didn't think that his best friend would be the one to take the blow.

Teagan remained silent, the news was dire indeed. Teagan wished he hadn't heard it. The person who rallied all of Fereldan and ended the civil war was dead. A great loss for the country, and to the Grey Warden's.

Regaining his composure. Alistair turned to face Eamon, tears had built up but he kept them back. For the time being. "I'll see to it personally that no one in Fereldan forget the sacrifice my friend made."

Eamon gave Alistair a gentle compassionate nod, Alistair did not need to say those words for Eamon and Teagan knew that the Warden would be remembered regardless.

"So. What now? I can scarcely believe the Blight is over now." Teagan interrupted.

"There is much to be done. That much is certain. We will need to restore Denerim before we move onto anything else." Eamon said, turning to face his brother.

Both the Guerrin brothers armour's were blood stained, Teagan's armour had chips and dents it was clear that he saw more of battle today than his aging brother—although Eamon fought against the Orlesian Empires' occupation years before Teagan joined. Teagan sighed and turned to glace at Alistair.

"Order will be hard to restore, but I'm confident that trade and commerce can resume within two days." He said.

Alistair gave his half-uncle a serious look that Teagan had never seen. "We best get to work then."

* * *

The cold feeling grew stronger with each passing moment. The Wardens eyes snapped open only to find a strange place of various fluctuating hues. The place felt—different—than the Fade and somewhat familiar. Is this dead? It was hard to image anything else. The temperature took another dip, now every breath could be seen. The Warden turned to look around the surroundings, all looked the same, fluctuating hues, and nothing else the Warden looked down and noticed he was naked. He touched one of his arrow shaped scars on his chest he got during the Battle of Ostagar, when the Darkspawn overwhelm the King's army and flooded into the Tower of Ishal. Strange to think that was half a year ago, he looked at the ground he was on—or lack thereof—it seemed as though he was floating on mid-air, or was the ground the same as everything around him?

A noise drew his attention, he turned around and noticed a shadow forming into a human male shape. He was shocked when the shadow formed into his deceased father, Teyrn Bryce Cousland.

"It's nice to see you again pup." Bryce said, he was looked the same as when the Warden saw him last, blood stained ripped noble clothing and white as snow.

"Father? Is that truly you?" The Warden asked, hesitantly.

Suddenly, The Warden's and Bryce's surrounding turned into Castle Cousland's main dining hall the table was full of delicious well cooked meats and fine wines for many counties.

"Tomas" Bryce started. "You are not dead. But you are on the precipice, I came here to guide you back to the world."

"Guide me back? How?" Tomas looked at his body, full dressed in his blue satin noble clothing that he once wore before joining the Grey Wardens. The feeling was soft as he remembered it, but it was so long since he last wore it he'd almost forgotten its feel. The dining hall was empty the food untouched, the wine still in fine small silver goblets. He remembered they were bought in Orlais when Bryce visited the country a few years before Oren's birth. Oren was the first grandchild of Bryce and Tomas' nephew. It was strange to see them again but at the same time comforting. Bryce looked around the hall and laughed a little. His appearance change to that before he was murdered by Arl Rendon Howe, Bryce's former friend and comrade-in-arms.

"All in good time pup, there were so many things I want to say to you before I…died. But I've seen the amazing deeds you have done, I'm more than proud of you." He said, holding back tears. "We did all we could to keep you and Fergus safe, but it wasn't enough. I'm so, so sorry I didn't do better."

Tomas looked at his father, he, at first regretted leaving Highever with Duncan, but he accepted that if he had stayed he too would be dead. "You have nothing to be sorry for dad. Howe moved against you when you least expected it, Fergus and I survived we can rebuild Highever and restore the Cousland name."

Bryce looked at his son and smiled, then he frowned in remembering. "But little Oren didn't. That will kill Fergus it will make it difficult to rebuild." He was correct of course. Fergus will find it difficult to rule in the castle where his family was slain to kill the Couslands' bloodline. Arl Howe succeeded in killing Fergus' heir, Fergus himself would find it hard to commit to another woman to conceive another child.

And Tomas himself was a Grey Warden, though he could steward the lands of Highever in Fergus' place, the taint within him made his lifespan short and conceiving a child difficult. Bryce looked back as the room they stood in changed again, this time to the throne room in Denerim, where the Landsmeet took place. It was empty and still. Too quiet.

Was this in the past or the present, the fighting had reached the palace district but there were no reports saying the Darkspawn had reached the Royal Palace.

"Son. This is where we part for the last time until death claims you. Be warned the Darkspawn threat will continue for months until you end it. Your task is far from over." Bryce said placing a hand firmly on his son's shoulder.

"It never ends does it?" Tomas said exasperated.

"For you … No it does not." Bryce then embraced his son in a tight fatherly hug as the area around them dissolved into a bright light. "You will not only be needed to fight Darkspawn but a threat unlike any the world has seen. You must steel yourself. You know to win a war sacrifices must be made a Grey Warden knows this better than any race out there. Make the Couslands proud my son!" Bryce's final words echoed in him as his father disappeared into the brightness. Tomas closed his eyes to shield himself from the seemingly harmfully light. He could hear Alistair's voice, an echo of sorts as the light disappeared, replaced by endless blackness.

Then he heard Wynne's voice, it was filled with sorrow he'd only heard her once when she was sad and it left an imprint on him. He caught a verse from a song, the voice belonged to Leliana, she and Tomas shared a passionate moment together during their adventure to fight the Blight. But they called it off, the thought of an early death forced him to break off their relationship to spare her from the heart break that his death would bring. Though it was true. He _had _died and she was heartbroken, he had failed in preventing that. The song was interrupted by a loud belch from the dwarf Oghren. He must have been drinking again. When did he _ever_ stop drinking? He must be very drunk, drunker than usual. Following the belch was a sad whimper from Barkspawn, Tomas would never forget his Mabari hound. He named his Mabari, Barkspawn, as a little joke after hearing of the Fourth Blight from his teacher, Aldous.

Hearing enough of his comrade's sadness, Tomas forced himself to get up. He opened his eyes, his vision was all blurred and heard the gasps of shocked men and women. His vision cleared mostly and he saw Alistair staring at him, like he had seen a ghost.

Tomas cracked a smile. "What did I miss?" He asked putting humour behind the question.

Alistair smiled back, he realized that his friend was alive and he was happy to have him back amongst the living.

"Oh not much. You died. We all cried and now your back jokes on us."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

**FIVE MONTHS EALIER**

**OUTSIDE THE IMPERIAL COURT, VAL ROYEAUX**

**ORLAIS**

The news of the Blight in Fereldan caused the nobility in Orlais to scramble about like scared mice. None of them knew what to expect and so turned to Empress Celene I. She was in contact with the current King of Fereldan, Cailan Theirin, son of Maric Therin the man who led an army to defeat the Orlesian occupation of Fereldan. He accepted Celene's offer of help to defeat the darkspawn menace, and she prepared a force to aid the King of Fereldan. However, the Battle at Ostagar was lost and the darkspawn won the battle. Cailan was killed and his most trusted advisor, Loghain was named regent and refused to have Orlesian troops on Fereldan soil.

This caused a serious problem. A problem that was left at the feet of the Orlesian Grey Wardens to solve. Empress Celene busy with political schemes threatening her life. The Grey Wardens made plans should Fereldan fall to the Blight. Believing that all the Fereldan Grey Wardens were dead. The Warden-Commander of Orlais sent Riorden, a Fereldan native, to find out what truly happened at Ostagar and figure out the best way to fight Loghain's regime and the Blight at the same time.

No word had been heard from him in weeks.

Sidona Andras, an Elven Grey Warden mage walked up the steps of the Imperial High Court, she cursed silently about the amount of steps. She was escorted by Jardukr and Narder fellow Grey Wardens that she knew since her Joining. But today they were uncharacteristically silent.

Jardukr was a Dwarf from Orzammar, he was part of a Noble family before he got sick of the heavy politics of the Thaig and left for the surface. He abandoned his family name and caste, and enjoyed a life as a traveling mercenary on the surface for many years until he was recruited to join the Grey Wardens. Though he abandoned his family, he did not forget his skills as a warrior, he missed fighting darkspawn and joined the Wardens without a second thought.

Narder was half Elf, his father an Orlesian lowborn rapist who enjoyed raping Elven women and treated as a sport. Narder knew of his father from a mother in the Chantry, but did not know anything of his mother, who, committed suicide shortly after his birth due to shame. He was sent to an orphanage and he joined the Templar Order as soon as he was old enough. He spent two years as a Templar, even getting addicted to Lyrium. He was conscripted into the Grey Wardens by the Warden-Commander, when the Chantry refused to give them any recruits.

Both normally chatted her pointed ears off on how Orzammar politics worked and how the Templar Order must keep, well order. To the point she had enough. Sidona knew Narder before they became Grey Wardens, she was in the Circle of Magi in Orlais for four years. She saw him around, at first she hated him simply because he was a Templar. But she got to known him as a person and she considered him the only Templar she trusts.

Stopping half way up the stair she looked at them as they noticed she had stopped moving. "So what's wrong like? Your both too quiet … have I told you I hate that?" She finally asked.

"Sorry … We're—" Narder started.

"We're leaving the Grey Wardens at the end of the week." Jardukr finished.

"Both of you? Why? Has something happened?" Sidona asked, she knew recently they began to doubt their places within the order. But she thought—hoped—that they change their minds.

"You could say that. My contact in Orzammar is dead, and I can't get any Lyrium for Narder here. So were going to Tevinter to work for a magister there. He'll provide Lyrium for us in exchange for our services." Jardukr said, he wasn't sad he had his usual business face on. The face of a Noble Dwarf.

"You're going to the Imperium? That's stupid even for you Jard." Sidona protested, she never liked the Tevinter Imperium. They enslaved her people in the past and now in the present. The only part of the Imperium she liked—the one part she secretly wished was true in all nations—was that it was ruled by mages.

"You know. If you looked past the slavery in the Imperium you'd have a nice place there. You're a powerful mage, sexy and sleek in all the right places. Ahaha." Jard jested, but his jest had some truth to it—especially the sexy part.

Sidona prided herself on her beauty, something she learnt while amongst City Elf's of Orlais. She wore make-up and the best perfumes gold could buy. She style her hair to fit each situation she was in, either in battle or verbally jousting with the nobility. Many humans were attracted to her and many more Elven males—and females.

"I know Jard, but I can't forgive the slavery of _my kind_. How would you feel if the Shemlen enslaved your people?" Sidona inquired.

Jardukr moved his lower jaw, considering his answer. He had never once thought about the idea of the Dwarven people being enslaved, not once. He was too proud of his own people's work and skill to think that a human civilization could defeat the mighty Dwarven Empire. Except it wasn't much of an Empire—or mighty—it was two Thaig's now with dwindling numbers.

"I … wouldn't like it too much. I know there are Dwarven slaves in Tevinter, but they got caught and bought into bad deals and such." Jardukr finally said, his answer did not in any way please Sidona.

"That's not the best of answers Jard. Seriously, you only care for your own kind. Just like the Shemlen." Sidona said, frowning. She hated that about Jard he only cared for his own kind—and he lusts after any girl with a big rack. The perverted Dwarf. But he was her friend despite all that.

"Look, Siddi—" Siddi was her nicknamed given by Narder during their time in the White Spire. The White Spire which housed the Orlesian Circle of Magi. "We know you hate what the Shem have done to _our _kind. But you have to look to the future. I need my Lyrium, Jard here needs to make a living for his wife and child and you … need to move past _our _Elven heritage."

Those words hurt her. Not truth about Jard or even Narder's basically insulting her Elven heritage by telling her to forget it and move away. No. It was the fact that he was saying _our kind_. He was not Elven. Part Elven sure but not a pure-blooded Elven. That was the thing she detested in him. Anger flared up on her face, both Jardukr and Narder. Jardukr gave Narder a look that said _you had to go and piss off the powerful mage, didn't you. _She tried to muster up the rage so she could strike him with lightning, but she couldn't. It wasn't his fault a Shemlen forced himself on his mother.

Sidona sighed, heavily, she looked up towards the Imperial Court's entrance. Her future was that of influence. She was to be advising the Empress on matters of politics and Blights. Her two friends made their chose about their futures—even though they'd end up dead in a Tevinter City—she loved her friends to much to try further to convince them to reconsider.

"Fine. You go and enjoy your lives." Sidona sadly said.

"You sure lass?" Jardukr said, looking just as sad as she felt. Perhaps he regretted what he had said. Then a sparkle in his eye appeared, he had an idea. "We will have a party before we leave, a big one! Now that your sort of nobility you can throw one. Get to know who you're playing 'The Game' with. It will work as a celebration to your new station, and a farewell to your best pals!"

It was not a bad idea. Sidona needed to know the important players in "The Game" apart from the Empress, she had no idea who else were involved. A party in Orlais were enjoyed by all and throwing one and inviting them would show the others that you have influence that you are someone of importance, and it was a good excuse to eat fancy foods and drink fine wine. At the same time Sidona would have to keep her guard up during the party. Parties in Orlais became battlegrounds for players in the "the Game". Both allies and enemies would, naturally be invited—but in Sidona's case all the enemies would be invited.

"Yeah I get your point. It will be nice to up my standing with these Shem." Sidona said, smiling prettily. "Now let's hurry up. We can't keep the Empress waiting now can we?"

**INSIDE THE IMPERIAL COURT**

The entrance to the Imperial Court was more beautiful that the tales they told. It was bigger than the Grey Warden base at Montsimmard a long red carpet greeted them leading them towards the Empress' throne room, which sat atop yet more stairs. Chevaliers guarded the entrance into the throne room. Their silver armour reflected the light from the large windows on either side of the room, it made looking at them hard. One of them was old and grey, grey hair with a grey bread but black eyebrows. The man on his left, was young and handsome, golden locks of curled up hair. He was obviously a pampered son of a noble given this easy post by his influential father or mother. He wasn't a playing in _the game_, just another pawn Sidona thought.

He gave her a wide pretty smile, his teeth were bright white in colour, and they shone. Obviously well pampered. "The Empress will see only you Sidona Andras. You companion's will have to wait here or leave." He softly said, he spoke with a strong Orlesian accent that put Sidona's accent to shame.

Sidona was born amongst the Dalish Elves in Fereldan where she picked up her accent. During her time in the White Spire she pick up a mild Orlesian accent, but many Orlesians could tell she was from Fereldan by her accent. Damned Orlesians.

"That's fine. Narder and I will meet you back at your new house." Jardukr said almost too happily.

Sidona scowled at him. "Break into my house again and I'll put a curse on you. Remember the last time?"

Jardukr shrived as he remembered the time he walked in on Sidona getting dressed, he had saw her completely naked. Afterwards he bragged about it for days to the fellow Wardens, and to make it worse he had an artist draw her naked body from his description. For revenge Sidona placed a mild curse on him that made his crotch itch every time he saw a beautiful woman. It became so bad that he was force to apologize to get the curse lifted.

"Don't remind me. I still can't get it up properly. The whores are crying from Montsimmard to Jader." He said, letting out a typical Dwarven laugh that echoed throughout the hall.

"Disgusting pig." Sidona muttered, shaking her head. She noticed the man with the golden hair gawking at her. Hearing the conversation he was stupefied.

"Avert your gaze pretty man. She doesn't like humans looking at her for too long." Jardukr warned the young Chevalier.

The man looked at the dwarf and rolled his eyes back to Sidona. "I apologises m'lady. I have never had the chance to meet a Grey Warden mage—" He stopped and considered how to end the sentence, it was obvious he was going to say "Elf" but he didn't want to insult her any further.

He remained silent. Awkward she fought before entering into the throne room.

Narder could tell by the man's eyes that he was lying. He was afraid. Narder was got at seeing the truth in people's eyes. A trick he learnt as a Templar to see if they were hiding Apostates and to see if someone was being controlled by a Maleficar using blood magic on a person.

As the throne room door closes Jardukr and Narder turn to leave. Narder turns back to the man. "I don't blame you for being scared. She is a frightful woman." After saying that he ran back to catch up with Jardukr.

* * *

Sitting on the Throne was Empress Celene I, current Empress of the Orlesian Empire. She ascended to the Orlesian throne in 9:20 Dragon, ten years ago. She looked as beautiful as her paintings—though Sidona thought she was a painting—she was being attended to by four Elves, each one doing a different job. One, a females was applying white powder to her face and chest. Another was styling her snow white hair into the current Antivan hairstyle straight out of Antiva City. A male was fixing her blue, jewel embroidered shoes on her sleek shaped feet. He may have enjoyed the job a bit too much judging by the way he was fascinated by the Empress' feet. Strange man.

The last Elf was holding a golden mirror showing the Empress what she looked like. Sidona cleared her throat loudly so to alert them of her presence. But no one paid her much mind. As she was waiting Sidona could now help but think that the Elven servants were a message for her from the Empress. It screamed _I have power over your kind, you will be no different. _Sidona thought that the Empress showing off her "servants" to her would unnerve her. Rational thinking came back to her, having Elven servants was a sign of status to the Orlesians and having more than one wasn't uncommon. In fact, Sidona never heard any bad rumours about the Empress' Elves being mistreated—which was a good sign.

Eventually, Celene looked over at Sidona. For a moment she did not seem to recognize her. Finally, she blinked in understanding.

"Oh. My new Grey Warden advisor. Sorry about this I got caught up with the latest fashions. Do accept my deepest apology." She said, her Orlesian accent was as strong as the golden haired mans. It was elegant, soft and warm.

"Beg pardon m'lady." The male Elf attending her feet said in voice flat and emotionless. He must have been mad at being interrupted.

"Of Course Tiaka." Celene said, uninterested in the Elf. He stood up and left through the servants door left of the throne.

She stood up after the rest of the Elven servants left. She looked at Sidona and sized her up.

"My, my. You're a pretty looking Elf. Hmm. Yes. It's quite enjoyable looking at you." She said softly.

Sidona held her skirt and curtseyed to the Empress. "Thank you, your grace." Though Sidona gave the strong impression she hated humans, this was not entirely true. She had many human friends and many more Elven ones. She hated the fact the humans ruined her races culture and history. She could sense that the Empress cared for her Elven servants and that was enough to gain her trust—for now.

"It is quite alright. Now to business. You do know by tradition no one but nobility can advise me on matter." She said, a hint of curiosity was in her voice. She wanted to know if Sidona knew Orlesian traditions.

"Yes, your grace. I do know. I find my placement odd." That was a lie. She knew that Celene would make her the first Elven noblewoman. Orlesians were nothing if predictable.

"Ah, I thought the Wardens would have informed you, but no matter." Celene moved closer to Sidona. She moved with such grace and care, like every step was planned before she took it.

"I'm making you the first Elven noblewoman. You will be granted 1000 royals to do with as you wish. Invest in something and double or triple your money. I don't expect you to pay me back it is my gift to you."

Sidona was surprised at this. The Grey Wardens were going to supply her with the coin to help her get started, but they would only be able to get 250 royals. Celene was generous today.

"Thank you, your grace. You're too generous." Sidona said almost breathless.

"Nonsense. I need you with coin and influence quickly. You maybe advising me about the current Blight in Fereldan, but your magic and other skills will be useful in aiding me against my foes in the nobility. You're a Royal Advisor now. And advisor's need to be ready to help me in whatever capacity I see fit."

What Celene said was true. Royal Advisors were the Empress' eyes and ears, rooting out potential threats in court and outside of court. The Warden-Commander knew that the Empress would use a Grey Warden advisor to help her in these matters. But Sidona's primary mission was to advise the Empress about the Blight for as long as it last. Sidona's position was temporary, but the way Celene was talking it sounded as if she wanted to make Sidona's position permanent.

"Of course, m'lady. But I must first advise you on the Blight and what you can do to prepare for it." She said, not trying to sound offensive to the Empress.

"Oh. I'm sure that Fereldan has got it covered. Loghain is leading the country. What's the worst that could happen?" Celene said, half joking.

Celene was still in mourning after Callen's death during the Battle of Ostagar. She lost an important political ally, and a husband.

"I'm sure they'll do fine. But in worst case scenario …" Sidona said.

"Of course. It is your right. And your job." Celene said, defeated.

Sidona looked at the Empress, up close she could see that she hadn't been sleeping well. The make-up disguised the black circles under her eyes. Poor Celene. Ruling a country that was beginning to panic over the news of a new Blight must be difficult, and to top it off she lost King Callen.

"I shall take my leave now. With your permission, your grace." Sidona curtseyed again.

"Yes. Your official ceremony will happen tomorrow. All the nobility will be there to see you. Get to know your enemies well and find allies. Many would like to get on your good side, while others will try to weaken you." Celene said, her words carried a sense of foreboding.

Sidona gulped hard.

* * *

_Next Chapter will be published on Monday. Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it._


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

**PRESENT TIME**

**ONE MONTH AFTER THE BATTLE OF DENERIM**

**ROYAL PALACE, FERELDAN**

The dreams were like waking nightmares. Never had the dreams of darkspawn been this intense this … real. Tomas Cousland, Hero of Fereldan felt like he was walking amongst the darkspawn in his dreams. Thankfully, with each passing day the dreams became less like nightmares and more like a forgotten dream, being buried deep within his memories.

Tomas awoke to the pleasant sights of his room in the royal palace filled with expensive clothes, armours, weapons and shields. Alistair showered Tomas with gifts from the Banns and Arls, all thankful that he stopped the Blight and saved their land and their freeholders. It was a nice—but unnecessary—he did his duty as a Grey Warden. The common folk named him the Hero of Fereldan, which stuck during sessions of court. The nobles called him that every time they met him, Tomas had a lot of influence with the nobles and the freeholders, for the time until the Grey Wardens arrived in Amaranthine in five months Tomas decided to stay in the capital to help Alistair settle into his duties as king.

As Tomas got changed from his white hosen pants and white wool shirt into his newly made Grey Warden uniform. The uniform was made for personal use outside of battle, it was blue with the heraldic banner of the Grey Wardens it had two griffons adorned, wings elevated, maintaining a branch fesswise.

He wore it sometimes underneath his plate armour that too was made to look like the typical Grey Warden armour. Tomas had never worn the official armour of a Grey Warden during the Blight. He made do with plate armour bought from travelling traders and merchants. Loghain the Grey Warden armoury in Denerim raided and all arms and armour was either sold the armour for profit or melted it down and re-forged into new arms and armour.

A pity. He thought looking into a clouded mirror on the desk next to his bed. He had grown a short but bushy beard, it was dark brown the same colour as his hair. He hadn't shaved in a month in fact he only managed to trim his beard during the Fifth Blight. Time of a clean shave.

Walking the halls of the royal palace felt like walking the halls of Castle Cousland. The stone work looked the same—though that could be said about all the castles in Fereldan.

Many of the servants were elven, there was one human but he quickly disappeared. Afraid to be seen with elves. Even after the land united against the Blight many humans held to their prejudices against elves. Tomas fought at the side of elf. Zevran Arainai, elven assassin from the Antivan Crows. A bit of an oddity for Tomas, Zev took the company of both men and women and flirted endless with all of Tomas' companions. Even Wynne, a woman twice his age.

The clans of the Dalish Elves assisted in retaking Denerim from the darkspawn. Their archers killed many of the vile beasts. And saved many human lives.

Ignorant people.

It made no matter Tomas remembered that there would be a meeting today on the state of Amaranthine. After Alistair's coronation, Fergus Cousland, Tomas' brother, was given the Arling of Amaranthine as well as restoring the Couslands lands back to them. Fergus did something that Tomas never thought would happen, Fergus gave the Arling of Amaranthine to the Grey Wardens.

That caused quite a stir in the Arling. The common folk were outraged, there outrage was exacerbate by Arl Rendon Howe's Vassals—the ones that joined in on his plans. Denerim was losing trade from Amaranthine and Amaranthine was losing trade with Denerim.

The situation was a grim one to say the least. Tomas had heard whispers from lower banns that King Alistair was unfit to rule if he can't keep peace in Amaranthine. Just a day in the life of a monarch.

The large wooden doors leading to the throne room opened and a female elven servant emerged. She smiled wide happy to see the Hero of Fereldan. "The King is expecting you, Hero." She said bowing low. "Thank you." Tomas said walking past the elf, though into the throne. The throne room was a large room that could fit many people, during a Landsmeet. A mount ago, Tomas convinced the Landsmeet to turn against Loghain and Anora, restoring the throne back to the Theirin bloodline.

At the over end of the room, Tomas saw Alistair and Eamon on the dais. Alistair was sitting on the throne and next to him pacing quite fast was Arl Eamon. The Arl stayed behind in the capital to teach Alistair how to rule and advise him where necessary. He was scrambling ever since the news from Amaranthine reached the capital a few days before.

"This threat needs to be dealt with your majesty!" Eamon's voice echoed throughout the room. Eamon was normally calm during these matters, but recent events have taxed him and Alistair.

Tomas spotted Ser Cauthrien standing to the left of the throne she had her great-sword—The Summer Sword—in its leather scabbard on her back. She wore her new chainmail armour made by Master Wade. He had outdone himself this time using the remains of the dragonscale Tomas had gotten him he forged a two armour sets; one for Ser Cauthrien to wear during her new duty as captain of the Kings Guard, the other was sold to a surface dwarf, who is rumoured to have sold it to one of the smith caste In Orzammar.

"Fereldan _was_ united, now Amaranthine is in chaos and Gwaren is without a Teryn. Its people speak of rebelling unless Anora is made Queen." Eamon continued his rant.

Tomas was half way to the dais when Cauthrien spotted him, she was quite distracted but who could blame her, she whispered his arrival to Alistair who stood up to great his friend. "My friend, come to save me from the demons of politics?" He said with a grin, happy to have some distraction from the hardships of the day.

"Don't sound so happy my friend. You will find me quite the demon in a few minutes nagging you with solutions and asking silly questions over and over again, even though I asked them before." Tomas couldn't help but chuckle. Some of Alistair personality had rubbed off on him during their travels to stop the Blight he occasionally joked with Alistair, he blamed Alistair for the habit. A bad habit to pick up he jested at times. "Aww…Oh well then, better get in to position then." Alistair said sitting back down on the throne. Eamon looked vexed. It was not like him and Tomas did not like it one bit.

"So, Gwaren is in trouble and Amaranthine has stopped trade. Anything else to add to our troubles?" Tomas asked Eamon, trying to sound reasonable so the Arl could keep his sanity.

"Thank the Maker that those are only troubles. Anymore and I think we should have let the Blight consume this land." Eamon said, letting out a heavy sigh. Back when Fereldan was in a state of civil war he was the voice of reason but now his political abilities were strained. The rebuilding of Denerim and Redcliffe consumed his every waking moment since the end of the Blight, he barely saw his son Connor or his wife Isolde when he did it was not for long.

"The Mayor of Gwaren is calling for the release of Anora so that she can be the Teyrna. But many of Gwaren's people want her to be Queen and Alistair to step down. They believe that the Therin bloodline is dead and that the Mac Tir line should rule Fereldan now." Eamon said, rubbing his top of his nose.

Alistair looked at Tomas and gave him a curious look. "Anora still hasn't relinquish her claim to the throne and is still imprisoned in Fort Drakon to this day. Maybe I should have allowed her to be executed that day." He said with a half-a-smile.

"It would have been simpler to have. But that would have caused more trouble with Gwaren's people if she was dead. Since she is still alive there may be a chance we can resolve this situation before it escalates." Tomas said, sounding as calm as ever in any situation. In weeks past, Tomas has defused many situations threating Alistair's rule. Many of Loghain's supporters began organizing, their main goal was to free Anora from Fort Drakon and kill Alistair so that Anora would inherit the throne, which Tomas personally thwarted by killing the assassin and arresting Loghain's supporters. Even in death Loghain still had influence. In the aftermath of the Blight many who hole heartily supported him began to voice their dissatisfaction with the new King, Loghain was a hero to the people, but his actions during the war left the people with a bitter taste in their mouths. Though many thought that he did what he did due to the pressures of war, the truth sobered them up, he was mad with fear of Orlais and that fear drove him to betray his King.

Aside from putting down threats to the realm, he also negotiated a trade deal with King Bhelen to see the shipping of more dwarven goods to the surface. This boosted the weakened economy to its height before the Blight. Both sides profited from the deal and showed the banns that Alistair had Fereldan's best interests at heart. Arl Eamon was right, Tomas had influence many sought to deal with him to push matters to the crown. He had thought that this would mean that he'd get no peace, bust as the weeks rolled by, Tomas felt lost managing the courts and dealing with the nobility didn't leave as much of an impact.

He wanted adventure writing wrongs along the way the threat of danger the thrill of battle. He missed all of that but his work was important so he set aside those feelings. Though he knew that his position in court was temporary, he felt like he'd be stuck in court forever.

Today was no different, he felt the strong urge to put his armour and leave the capital to search for adventure. He had already figured out a solution to the Gwaren problem the night before now it was time to put his plan into to action. Amaranthine would have to come later.

Tomas moved to the left side of the throne, standing tall next to Cauthrien. "I want to meet with Anora, I have a proposition for her. One that will a benefit to her and you." He said.

Eamon looked dubious and began to voice his concern. "Anora will not be easily persuaded. She is as stubborn as her father and even more manipulative. She is still well loved by the people but they know that she wants nothing but power. If she were to rule she can produce no heir, she is infertile Calian knew this to be true. Her reign would be short and with no one to succeed her Fereldan will be plunged into civil war without end."

"I know but trust me I can persuade her. If not then we will need to put forward a new Teyrn for Gwaren." Tomas said. Anora would jump at any chance to have power, but she was smart about it. She would only jump if the offer was in her best interest, and Tomas knew her well his offer would be one that she couldn't refuse.

"Okay. I trust you my friend you can see Anora whenever you wish, but please make it fast. The situation is worsening with each passing day. The army isn't strong enough to face another war so soon, and the land is recovering from the taint from the Blight." Alistair said, sounding so regal, it was so unlike him.

Tomas nodded. He looked at Eamon who had now calmed down and regained much of his calmer demeanour. This was good, Eamon needed to be at his best. He had a meeting with an ambassador from Kirkwall later on to discuss raider activity off the Amaranthine Coast and the Fereldan refugee problem the city was experiencing.

"I believe I can help with the problem in Amaranthine," An elderly woman voice said, echoing in the near empty throne room. "I apologize for my tardiness. I was busy discussing some mage business with the Grand Cleric."

Tomas knew who the voice belonged to. Wynne, senior enchanter from the Circle of Magi and a royal advisor to Alistair. It was Alistair who asked for Wynne to be his advisor and she accepted. Though the Chantry were up in arms about it they accepted her appointment nonetheless. Her wisdom helped Tomas through tough times on their journey to defeat the Blight. She was like a second mother to him, she was kind a caring but stern when she needed to be and gave advice when it was needed. Her magic also helped when the time called for it. But she was living off borrowed time. She had found herself bound to a spirit from the Fade it was keeping her alive, during the Abomination incident at the Tower she died but the spirit reached out and saved her from dying. A mage from Tevinter gave her the good news—partly—the spirit could keep her alive for ten to eleven years, if she didn't draw on its power. To her this was good news, she had time to set her affairs in order before she died. First Enchanter Irving had actually order her to not use any magic, to keep her alive as long as possible.

Irving and several other mages began looking into a way to save Wynne, despite her best efforts to reassure them.

"Oh good. Do tell." Alistair said, standing up as if to give her the throne.

Wynne bowed before Alistair. Alistair pulled a face and gestured her to rise. "Please Wynne don't do that. After all we did spill a lot of darkspawn blood together. No need to hurt your knee and back. I know how you old people get." Alistair joked, the joke was not lost on Wynne she let out a soft laugh.

She stood as quickly as any young woman would, she took her place at Arl Eamon side. She and the Arl were on good terms, Tomas suggested she would be the mage to save Eamon's son, Connor, from the Pride Demon that had possessed him. She gave him regular updates on his son's progress in the Circle Tower.

"As I said I have a solution to the Amaranthine situation. Though it may be temporary. We should give Seneschal Varel control of Amaranthine until the Grey Wardens arrive from Orlais. He is a native and well loved by the citizens of the city. "

"Varel? Yes, yes I see that will go down well with the people. He can keep Bann Esmerelle and her lot in line until Tomas takes over with the rest of the Warden's from Orlais." Relief rolled down Eamon's face as he talked. Strange he did not think of that himself. But then again he was stressed out but a moment ago so he can be forgiven.

"I shall take my leave now. I must go speak with Anora." Tomas said, making his way down the dais. "I shall update you Eamon, if she changes her mind.

**FORT DRAKON, FERELDAN**

As Tomas approached the Fort he began to remember the Battle of Denerim. He lead Wynne, Alistair and Sten to the Fort doors, then a small horde of darkspawn poured out of the Fort, Wynne used her magic to rain down fireballs while he, Sten and Alistair cut down the survivors. Before they could rest another wave approached, thankfully Dalish archers arrived and sent a volley of arrows raining down on the darkspawn. He had not been to the Fort since the battle, the place reminded him of the both the battle and his incarceration there, where he was tortured by the overzealous guards who had grown complacent and depraved since Loghain's rule. Thank the Maker that now the Fort acts as the prison and fort it was meant to. No torture.

Tomas entered the main lobby and past yet more, large wooden doors which led into the main hall. It was here a month ago he _died_ and just as quickly recovered. The new captain of the fort, a female by the name of Ser Blanchette. She was armoured up in Silverite chainmail, she was barking orders at the men. Regular training. She noticed him and waved her men away.

"So I take it you're here to speak with the 'bitch' queen?" She said with such hatred. Since her incarceration after the Landsmeet, Anora's name was dragged through the mud. Many in the army spread the rumours of her colluding with her father to kill King Callan so that Anora would inherit the throne. The rumour all but destroyed her worth to eyes of the army. Tomas too had heard a terrible rumour of Anora being mistreated, rape and abuse amongst them. It did not paint a good picture.

"I'm here to speak with Anora, yes. Can you bring her to me?" Tomas asked, looking at the men behind her.

Ser Blanchette looked around, considering. "Sure I'll bring her. But not in the comfortable conference room. Oh, no that bitch doesn't deserve the comfort of that room. So you'll have to talk to her in the interrogation room." She said after careful thinking.

The interrogation room was underneath the fort next to the former torture chamber. "Great. Take me to the room. I will speak to her." Tomas didn't have much of a choice. Blanchette was not the one to be denied she may be new but she commanded her men well, none of them would question her orders and Tomas didn't want to start and incident with the army.

The interrogation room was dimly lit room, the candle lights were growing dim with each passing minute. The room was in disrepair, bricks were loose and the wooden ceiling was rotten and falling apart. It felt like it could fall down at any moment. The wooden desk was new at least, but the room smelled of shit and piss. _Great. A room where prisoner pissed themselves in fear. That will send a 'great' message to Anora. _He thought.

Soon enough a guard opened the door and shoved Anora in, she feel face first into the floor. The guard picked her up by the breasts and placed her on the chair. Her face full of muck said it all.

"The fuck man. Is that how you treat all of your guests!" Tomas shouted as he tried to unshackle Anora.

"S-s-s-orry, hero." The guard stuttered he knew who he was dealing with the Hero of Fereldan. Poor bugger didn't know that the Hero of Fereldan was the one who wanted to talk with Anora. He left the key behind and ran from the room.

Tomas looked at Anora, ripped cloth clothing with dirt marks, cleavage exposed clearly, short hosen pants the pants left side exposed her bare leg. Her blonde hair now a dirty blonde colour from the dirt. It was not a good sight, she should have been treated with respect. She was skinner than the last time they had spoken, the guards must not have been feeding her properly. Since no one reported her condition to the King, which was a bad sign. A sign of corruption in the ranks of the fort. Tomas was sickened by this. He yelled down the hall to nearest guards to fetch food, water and a cloth.

"I don't need your pity. I'm paying the price of my failure." Anora said, through a suppressed cry.

"Failure to secure the crown? Or failure to let go of the throne?" Tomas responded.

"To let go," She said, a tear rolled down her right cheek. "I should have. But my stubbornness…I won't apologise I did what I thought was best for Fereldan. But being here. I just wish—"

"You could change the past?" Tomas finished her sentence, he wiped away her tear gently with his finger. "Did any of the men here—" Tomas let the sentence trail for a bit, he did not want to finish it, asking such a question to a lady.

"No…they didn't. They say I'm infertile. Not worth the sex. They've treated me like a common criminal. Is it true Alistair told them to treat me this way?" She asked, her eyes burned with anger she wanted to hate Alistair, but somewhere deep within her she knew Alistair was not behind her mistreatment.

"No. He did not. But I know who did. Ser Blanchette." Tomas was guessing but his feelings told him that he was right. Anora looked at him, the anger in her eyes died down. Replace with the eyes of an innocent little girl. Tomas didn't know either to feel sorry for her or be wary of her just in case.

"So why are you here? Not to check up on me." Anora asked. "No. I want you to renounce your claim to the throne." He responded quickly. "If you do I'll see that you'll be the made Teyrna of Gwaren."

Anora looked around the room clearly considering her options. "If I don't?" She asked, softly as if a whisper.

"You will be hanged. Fereldan can't have you raising up any rebellion for the throne. Would you really weaken the country you helped rule? The country your father spent most of his life fighting to free from the Orlesians?"

She looked at Tomas in the eyes, her eyes seemed to look deep into his soul. "There is more isn't their?"

Damn she was good, of course there was more. She read him like a book, she was good.

"Yes, you will have to marry my brother Fergus Cousland to make sure that your honour your renunciation of the throne." He said, still looking at her. Not backing down an inch.

Something in Anora changed. She averted her eyes and looked to the floor, she had been spoiled as a child everyone doing what she wanted the way she wanted. Even Callan, but now she could not get her way. Now her only way out of the hell hole of her prison cell was to accept Tomas deal.

"Alright then. I-I accept." She whispered. Defeated.

"Okay then. I'll have the guard take you to Eamon's estate. There you will write down the renunciation and publicly announce it to. Fergus will meet you in Gwaren for the wedding in a months' time." He said. Happy with the result.

"You—would have made a great king yourself. You know that." Anora said, holding his hand. Looking at him longingly. He quickly moved his hand away. "Don't push your luck Anora."

Outside the Fort, Tomas sighed heavily. He saw Anora being escorted by loyal guardsmen to Eamon's estate. She was much cleaner than before, she still wore the rags from the prison but she was beautiful again. She would look like a noblewoman again with the right outfit.

As Tomas began to walk away from the Fort a child ran in front of him and stopped shy of crashing into him. The boy was panting clearly he was sent here. "A message for you Hero!" The boy announced, handing Tomas an envelope. As quickly as he arrived, the boy left.

Tomas opened the letter and began to read it.

"_Dear most beloved saviour. I'm in a bit of a pickle and in need of your Grey Warden abilities to get me out of the problem. Meet me in the Pearl and I'll explain in greater detail. ~ Zev."_

This can't be good.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

**FIVE MONTHS BEFORE THE BATTLE OF DENERIM**

**SIDONA'S OLD HOUSE, VAL ROYEAUX ALIENAGE**

**ORLAIS**

Walking through the back streets of the Alienage was simple for Sidona. She had lived here for at least a year before the Templars force her to the Circle of Magi in the White Spire. The White Spire was located within Val Royeaux you could see the spire from any location in the capital, at night the white tower is lit by magic, seen by some as looking like a sword thrust into the sky. It was breath-taking to look at. She turned to look at the tower, the sun was setting and the tower began to glow. It reminded her that she used to live there. She made her way past several elves, all shady looking with daggers strapped to their belts, but they knew she was a mage. She had taught them the other night when they jumped her. The men back away slowly and then broke into a sprint. The Alienage had changed just a bit since the last time she was here. Now elven criminals roam the streets and back allies, not a safe place. Now the elves are turning against each other instead of begging on the streets and mugging the odd Shemlen. The situation was worsening with each passing day. Sidona move quickly through the back allies, gracefully ducking under fallen beams and crates filled with Maker-knows-what. She pasted the brothel, and knew she was close to her former home which was still rented under her name, and protected by magic wards, to prevent looters from stealing her books and other valuables. The brothel was an elven only brothel, whores made the most money in the Alienage. Noble Orlesians paid good coin to get an elven prostitute into bed with them, and the elven women gladly lay with them to get the coin. They shared what coin they got with the poorest of the Alienage, but coin corrupts and soon elven gangs organised and help themselves rather than the poorest amongst them.

She saw her house and walk towards it carefully, many still remembered her, not happy memories. She dispelled the ward and entered slowly. Finally at home safe from the Imperial Court and the watchful eyes of the Orlesian guards and the elven criminals. It was nice to be back in her familiar home she lost so long ago. Her house was a small little thing, but it was cosy and sturdy. It was one big room, where walls section the each "room". Her bed room was tucked behind the wall on the right hand side of the door. In front of the door was her tub, where of course she bathed, she didn't like it there but if couldn't fit anywhere else. Despite its short comings it was a nice house in the "nicest" part of the Val Royeaux's Alienage. She had quarters in the Grey Warden headquarters in Montsimmard, but she wasn't there and Montsimmard was a ways south of Val Royeaux. She had gathered her belongings into a truck for transport to her manor the previous day when she came here. Now she just wanted to relax and soak in her past. She quickly took off her fancy Orlesian shoes that she _had_ to wear. Sidona never liked shoes, she enjoyed walking around barefooted. But that wasn't strange, she was raised in a Dalish clan, clan Aldamin. It was a small clan that wandered from Fereldan to Orlais as per their ancient traditions. Wiggling each toe she sighed in relief. Her feet felt free from the restraints of shoes. To her shoes held back her speed. Shoes where meant for Shemlen and the city elves.

She moved quickly to her bed, she had to get out of her outfit, it was the typical blue robes of a mage apprentice, customized to show her allegiance to the Grey Wardens and further modified to look stylish and easy on the eyes for her meeting with the Empress. He hated it. She tore it off quickly all day she was wearing it and it made her skin itchy, she managed to survive the day thanks to her magic. She cast a spell to soothe her skin, but the spell had started to wain since she left the Imperial Court. Since the Templars kept watch she couldn't use her spell again. Using magic within the city was an offense, unless the Chantry had given its permission. Grey Wardens were not the exception to that rule, Grey Warden mages could only use magic inside Montsimmard. Sidona had broken that rule this morning. "But what the Templars don't know won't hurt me." She had said this morning to Jardukr and Narder.

Now she was almost naked. She wore a typical Dalish corset with red underwear that a fellow elven Warden gave her, she did not ask what the material was nor was she interested, it was comfortable enough to wear. She looked at herself in the mirror and thought of her new life that was set out for her. She was to become a noblewoman, the first elf ever. She didn't like the idea much she would be more than happy to fight alongside her fellow Wardens against the darkspawn in Fereldan, but neither she nor her brothers and sisters could cross into Fereldan thanks to Teyrn Loghain. Being a noble wasn't her idea, she was to advise the Empress not dally about with nobles who plotted behind the Empress back. It didn't matter, the choice was made. Sidona knew much about the Blights, from the lore she collected as the Keepers First and later when she began to learn from the Grey Wardens extensive knowledge they had gathered over the course of many Blights and expeditions into the Deep Roads.

Using her own magic she had created when she was feeling lazy or tired, Sidona remover her corset and underwear with this spell moving her hands up from her knees above her head, the process looked like the clothing was burning away into blue light only to reappear on her bed, neatly folded and ready for storage. She quickly threw on her dressing gown, it was smaller than she remembered, it barely covered her knees and a large part of her chest was exposed. _Luckily it's covering my breasts. If Jard were here I'd have to cure him again. Maybe even kill him. _She thought. It had been five years since she was last here, the wards did their job the place was full of dust. She wouldn't be here for long. After a nice hot bath of course. She moved to her metal tub—it was empty—of course. She waved her hand around and water filled the tub. A useful spell to have. She then set a fire underneath the tub to let the water heat up the tub to a nice temperature. She put out the fire after a moment and touched the metal tub and sent a small bit of cold into the metal so she wouldn't burn her back and bum. She got in and let out a relaxing breath and settled into the water.

After half an hour bathing in her tub the water began to get cold. She shivered and jumped out. "I was enjoying that!" She yelled to herself. She felt a slight bit embarrassed when she realised she was talking to herself. She was used to being with the Grey Warden one other elven mage, Royd, kept using his magic to make the water cold. Whenever her tub water got cold she'd blame him. But today her tub water went cold on its own, no magic involved, she was covering his womanhood for a moment before using her spell to put some clothes on. The clothes appeared on her body. Her blue Grey Warden tunic, it had no sleeves and a belt to section off her lower half making it look like she was wearing a skirt. The belt held packs ranging in size. The tunic cover up to a few centimetre above her knees. She wore leather wraps around her ankle it exposed her toes and the back of her feet. She took out some fingerless leather gloves from her a small pack attached to her belt and put them on. The right glove came up to about half way on her wrist covering a long horizontal scar, the left one was shorter like a standard glove. She straightened herself and looked into the mirror she was fixing her hair. Using her spell dried her completely. Her hair wasn't wet it was the same as it was when she arrived here, she was just adjusting it. Finally she looked at her nails, they had undergone a full manicure. The manicure was something she actually enjoyed. Luckily they never put any colour on her nails. She was ready to head out. She grabbed her truck by its handle and rolled it towards the door.

**GREY WARDEN OUTPOST, OUTSIRKTS OF VAL ROYEAUX**

It took an hour or two to get to the Grey Warden outpost. It was an isolated tower, originally built by the Tevinter Imperium it now housed—when necessary—the Grey Wardens of Orlais when they gathered outside of Montsimmard. They modified it and repaired it—to some extent. Night had fallen completely, and the small lanterns outside of the outpost guided her up the crooked stone stairs, her truck was making thudding noises each step she took up. The large door opened and outstepped, Gregory La Vale, he was the Warden-Commander of Orlais. His thick Orlesian style moustache was funny to look at, it was so typically, Orlesian. Despite his funny beard he was a stern and serious man. He commanded much respect from the Grey Wardens in Orlais. Whispers were about that in a year he would have to take his Calling, he was a Grey Warden longer than Sidona.

"About time you got here. I take you dallied about in your Alienage home?" He said, his accent was thicker than most Orlesians.

"I told you. I left a lot of important things there." Sidona said, staring defiantly at him.

"Bloody woman! Well you're here now. Best get moving we have much to discuss." He moved towards Sidona and pick up her truck with one hand and held it under his arm. Strong Shem. Together they entered the outpost. Inside many Wardens gather around a large finely polished wooden table, they sat down when Gregory entered with Sidona.

"To business then. Sidona's appointment has caused… a stir amongst the lower noble houses. Duke Prosper de Montfort and Lord Gaspard de Chalons have petitioned the Empress to reconsider and bar our order from Orlais." Gregory sat down on his chair, Sidona stood next to him. Many of the Wardens their muttered to each other, they were all wearing the blue Grey Warden tunics. Gregory wore his full commander plate armour set.

"Madness! They can't expect to expel us! With the Bight raging in Fereldan—" One Warden sprang up shouting,

"Most nobles believe that the Blight is a fiction made up by King Callan to weaken Orlais military. They don't understand or fail to understand the danger this Blight represents. That is why we must do our best to protect Sidona. Many nobles will beginning plotting against her and will make a move to kill her in front of the Empress tomorrow." Gregory interrupted.

"Sidona can look after herself she is a blood mage after all." A younger Nevarran male said. That hurt Sidona. She did not become a blood mage by choice. Before the Grey Warden recruited her a year ago she was kidnapped from the Circle and was forced into using blood magic by a mad mage who didn't want to use foul magic himself. Using a ritual that involved Lyrium the mage controlled her mind, a way a blood mage would but through Lyrium. She did not know what happened to her after the ritual was over. The scar on her right wrist was her reminder and she covered it up most of the time. The Templar caught her and branded her a maleficar and attempted to kill her. So she used her new found power to stop them. After a week of running she was cornered again, this time the Grey Wardens interfered and conscripted her into the Order. The Wardens bribed the Templars to keep her power a secret. Something she didn't expect them to do.

"True, _but,_ she is not like most maleficar. I don't want you using any blood magic at this ceremony. Unless it is absolutely necessary." He turned to her and she nodded in response.

Things were going ahead and quickly. Tomorrow was going to a hard day. A day not to forget.


	5. Chapter 5

_As an apology for a short chapter last time. Here is a longer one. Enjoy._

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE

**PRESENT TIME**

**THE PEARL BROTHEL, FERELDAN**

The pearl was filled to bursting today. It was strange to see.

Whores moving around in corsets and the latest Orlesian lingerie, moving to take their customs to private rooms. Many were waiting for their turn with the whores to pass the time they bought alcohol and shouted and whistled to the fine ladies working the bar. It figured that Zevran would choose this place. It was up his ally and he liked it that way. Tomas thought that Zevran had left Fereldan so that he could hide from the Antivan Crows, or was it hunt down each cells Grand Master and kill them?

It was strange of Zevran to contact him in the way that he did, Tomas told him if he needed anything he could come straight to him. But then again Zevran was a cautious elf. And, apparently like to hide in brothels. Tomas remembered that Zevran told him that he once grew up in a whorehouse, so to him, a brothel was a safe place to lay low—and get it on with the ladies while in hiding. It was so typically Zevran, hiding in plain sight and enjoying his time. He could have at least picked a better day to meet, today was Wintersend. Wintersend marked the end of Pluitanis, the second month in the calendar. To mark this holiday, tourneys were set up for the nobles. Trade and theatre, boomed due to the tourneys as nobles form across the land, and other countries came to participate. Alistair almost had Wintersend banned due to the Blight, but Eamon convinced him to keep it going as Fereldan needed it to secure gold from the traders to boost the economy. While nobles were participating in the tourney, many visitors came to the brothel. Even nobles in-between bouts.

The letter wasn't specific on the actually time that Zevran would be there in fact it didn't even have the day he would be there but something told him that it was today. Tomas took his time getting to the Pearl, after all he did get the letter at Fort Drakon which was on the far side of the city from the Pearl.

During the Blight, Tomas, Zevran, Liliana and Alistair visited the brothel. It was to stop the killing of Grey Warden supporters, a plan that was the brain child of Arl Rendon Howe. His men put up posters to make the Grey Warden supporters believe there was an underground movement that supported the Grey Wardens. When they arrived at the Pearl's back room, Howe's men killed them it was rare they took prisoners. Tomas put an end to Howe's scheme, while they were there an old flame of Zevran's caught his attention. Isabella, a Nevarran woman of beauty and self-proclaimed pirate queen. Her ship was docked in Denerim at the time, The Siren's Call. That was the name she called it. Zevran got to "catch up with her", though she wanted to "get to know" Tomas more, he politely denied her.

Sanga, the proprietor of The Pearl spotted him and gracefully walked up towards him. She moved through the crowd like a master thief, he could have sworn she pickpocketed a few of her customers along the way.

"Ah the Hero of Fereldan. Good to see you again. What can I get you?" She said, expecting him to after a whore. Many famous and well known people came to The Pearl from time to time, Arls and such. Sanga prided herself on the privacy of her clients. But on a busy day like this it was no different. Tomas noticed she tripled the brothels protection detail, to keep incidents to a minimum.

"Not what. Who." He said, acting like he was here for a woman.

"Oh. What is her or his name?" Sanga replied, curiously. The last time he was here, he was to kill Howe's men. A service she wished to repay by allowing him to have time with any of her girls and boys—for free. Tomas hadn't collected on that debt. Nor did he intend to.

"I'm not here for pleasure I'm afraid. I'm looking for an elf. A customer. He is blonde and has a tattoo on the left side of his face. Have you seen him?"

Sanga's left brow raised a little. "Oh. Him. Zevran the Antivan. Yes I have. He paid good coin and went into a private room with two of my best elves, girls of course and a male dwarf. You just missed him."

Typical. Tomas turned away to look for a seat. He would be here for quite a while.

Making his way past the crowd of drunken men, he realized that he knew some of the men here. Five of the men in the corner booth were Redcliffe knights, here to protect Arl Eamon at his estate. Ser Perth was amongst them. Strange, Ser Perth is—was—a devout knight in Eamon's service, him being here was, to say the least, wrong. Tomas asked him once if he had a wife, Perth never responded to his question. Which told him that he either had a wife long ago and something terrible happened, or that she either left him for some reason or other.

He wanted to find out more. Ser Perth helped him defend Redcliffe against and undead attack. Tomas turned and faced him, Perth was talking to his fellow knights and didn't notice him. Good. He approached the table Ser Perth was at. Perth looked at him, his face sold him out. He was caught in the act.

"Hello Ser Perth." Tomas said as politely as he could sound considering.

"Oh, erm. Hello there…friend. What…what are you doing in this…well…ahem establishment?" Ser Perth fumbled on his words like a child who was caught raiding the cookie jar.

"I could ask you the same thing." Tomas response was all that was needed to get the other two knights to stand up.

"What it to you…hero?" One of the knights said, his beard was thick and wet with mead, clearly this one had too much to drink. The other one was middle aged and bald. His eyebrows were thick and black. The dark circles under his eyes suggested he hadn't been sleeping well.

"Nothing. Just wondering. It's not the kind of place a knight such as yourselves would associate with. Anything I should know?"

"Oh…well…I better explain everything then. Men, please leave us for a moment. This is a conversation I'd rather have alone." Ser Perth waved and the two men left the booth. They stood at the opposite side of the room. Between them a sea of men.

Tomas took a seat opposite Ser Perth, and relaxed into it. The seat was surprisingly comfortable. A woman came and asked if they would like refreshments. Tomas asked for a pint and Ser Perth a glass of Antivan wine. The silence was awkward. It took a full moment before Ser Perth took a large gulp of his wine. "I've lost my faith," He said finishing his wine, he slammed the wooden mug down on the table. No one looked their way, the noise of talkative nobles drowned out any noise. "after defending Redcliffe, I began to question the Makers will. So much death. Innocent lives lost. And for what. All to satisfy a demons thirst for excitement. Then I began to question the quest for the Urn of Sacred Ashes, so many lives lost. Many of them were my friends and then you came along and found the urn without incident. I told myself that you were destined to find the urn. But then I looked into Brother Genitivi's research and I questioned him personally about his findings. I then realised that anyone with his research could have found the urn. But he was kidnapped by that dragon cult because of his work. And they were responsible for my friend's deaths!" He looked so angry and so sad, nearly at tears.

Tomas never truly believed in the Maker, his parents did not try to force him to believe they always allowed him to find his own way. That's what he liked and believed everyone should do, find their own way in life. Ser Perth was raised to believe in the Maker, he always went to his local Chantry and prayed for the Makers forgiveness. He would have become a Templar if it wasn't for his father and mother. They too, had belief in the maker, but, as with all lesser nobles, had to squire their son to a higher noble family. Had the events at Redcliffe been any different, then perhaps he would still believe in the Maker.

"So, your drinking your sorrows away is that it?" Tomas took and drink from his pint before continuing. "I won't try to help you find your faith again. That is something only you can do if you want it again. But being here of all places won't heal the wounds of your friend's deaths. You are not honouring their memory properly by drinking yourself to death in a brothel and fucking some nameless whore."

Ser Perth looked at him, the anger had gone from his face but replace with regret and more sadness. "True…I did not wish you to see me like…this. You are right! I will honour them not by sleeping with some nameless whore. But by serving the crown as faithfully as I once served the Maker."

Tomas raised his mug in the air, a gesture of approval. Ser Perth was a good knight and good knights were needed in the days to come. Tomas thought of the problems that Amaranthine was facing. A Bann that supported Rendon Howe throughout his entire campaign against the Couslands and helped support Loghain's crimes, was stirring up trouble. This Bann must have lost a lot when Howe died.

Ser Perth raised his empty mug in response. He moved his head—a signal to his two companions to leave—he extended his hand across the table. Tomas shook it, though he thought it felt awkward. He hadn't shaken anyone's hand in a while, not since the night he shook Howe's hand before the bastard betrayed his family.

"I best be off. Get sobered up and report for duty." Perth said, walking away from the booth. Leaving Tomas alone to pay the bill no doubt.

"Luck be with you Ser Perth. Don't find yourself in another brothel." Tomas laughed.

"I will try. I might end up waking in one after a valiant battle." Ser Perth chuckled.

* * *

An hour after Ser Perth had left the brothel the crowed of people died down. Many left after having waited so long. It was a busy day, and many of them hadn't the patience to wait their turn. Some cursed the elf that went in with two elven women before they left. Oh Zevran. You've single handily deprived these poor men of their entertainment. You dog. Tomas thought to himself. He was on to his sixth pint now. Since becoming a Grey Warden, he had a high tolerance for alcohol. Or did he always have such a resistance to alcohol and becoming a Grey Warden made it even harder to get drunk. He could drink at least another ten pints and not get the slightest bit drunk. He would need a stronger drink, maybe some special brew all the way from Tevinter. The alcohol there was reportedly magically enhanced they were all the rage in Tevinter at the moment.

Just as he began to take another drink from his mug, Zevran entered the room. With the two elven girls in each arm. The dwarf male nowhere to be seen. He slapped both women on the butt, both girls giggled and walked away. Sanga gave Zevran a frightful glare and, in return, Zevran flicked a sovereign towards her, which she caught quite skilfully.

Zevran turned towards Tomas, acknowledging his existence. A smile stretched across his face.

"Ah, Warden! Good to see you again. Alive and well. Good. As you're my good friend I will share Indiriel with you. My treat." Indiriel was one of Sanga's best girls, quite popular with the men and women of Denerim. Everyone she lay with all tell tales of the pleasures that she gave them. It was quite the tall, she was only nineteen of age and the most desirable and talented elven woman in the brothel. The other whores are said to be quite jealous of her, she gets all the good tips.

"No thanks, I'll pass. You said you were in trouble in your letter. Is it the Crows?" Tomas said, getting straight to business. Zevran frowned.

"You never have any fun, you know that. Well alright to business then." Zevran took a seat opposite Tomas, and poured himself a mug of Antivan wine that Ser Perth left behind. He began to drink the wine like it was his last drink he would have in a while, some of the wine dribbled out of his mouth. When he finished he let out a big breath of relief.

"Nothing gets a man as thirsty as having two women at once!" He let out a laugh and raised his mug in the air.

Tomas sighed. In the month after the Archdemon's death, Zevran made a promise to himself and Liliana to be loyal to only one woman and settle down with her when he found the right woman. He had, obviously, broken that promise.

"So, what trouble are you in?" Tomas asked again.

"We're both in trouble my friend." Zevran quickly replied.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Certainly. Where to begin. Ah, yes. You know Rendon Howe, the man who killed your family and you beheaded at his estate here in Denerim. Well, his brother, Daniel Howe, has hired three cells of Antivan Crows. Very large cells, the best this side of Antiva City. They are already here in Fereldan they are hunting me and you." Zevran was awfully calm about this. Zevran escaped the Crows and now they wanted him dead. Since Tomas saved him, they also want him dead as well. Daniel Howe is paying them to kill him as well, it's a win, win situation for the Crows.

"Great, I thought Daniel died in the war? Where was he?" Tomas asked, he knew Zevran had the answer.

"He was ruling Amaranthine while Howe was in the capital with Loghain. But when the war was changing its course he fled to the Free Marches. My contact does not know how but he ended up in Antiva City but by the wars end, he was drinking fine Antivan wine while having his cock sucked on by a cheap whore. He is back in Fereldan now. Or so I'm told."

Typical, Daniel Howe was always a pig. He had been such for a long time, he thought the world bent its knee to his whims alone. Bryce had told him a story of how Daniel Howe single handily botched an important battle during the rebellion against Orlais. He'd drank too much and told his elven servant the whole battle plan. That servant was an Orlesian spy, had he not been drunk he would have known—apparently—and had her executed then and there. After the battle, Rendon Howe disowned him. But sometime after war was over they reconciled. Daniel lived with Rendon since then. Tomas met him only once. That was at his mother spring salon, Howe and his brother arrived, Bryce was not happy about that. Bann Loren's wife, Lady Landra drink was spiked by Daniel, though Tomas did not find out that until going through Rendon Howe's journal.

A question was burning in his mind. Daniel was not the smartest Howe in the family nor the wealthiest. Since the Arling of Amaranthine belonged to the Grey Wardens the Howe's have no funds.

"How is he getting the coin together for this? Someone is supporting him." Tomas said, he was thinking of possible people who would aid Daniel in this.

"Think no longer. My contact intercepted messages between him and his ally. You won't believe who it is. It's our beloved former queen, Anora." Zevran's words echoed throughout Tomas' mind. Anora, her abuse in the tower…was staged to get sympathy. Now she was free and able to access Gwaren's treasury by now she would have signed the contract and escorted to Gwaren. She had manipulated him. Tomas cursed. He'd be played the fool by her.

"I released her just before I got here" Tomas slammed his fist on the table. It was so loud that Zevran jumped a bit, and so too did the other patrons and workers.

"Sorry, I thought I'd get the message to you as quickly as possible. Had I know you were to release her today I'd have told you more in the letter." Zevran sound so apologetic.

"It doesn't matter now. This plot against us. We will end it, and Anora, well we will see about her." Tomas said, grimly.

"Well I have more bad news." Zevran said, clasping his hands together.

"Wonderful. Do tell. Spare no gory detail."

"It's not only me and you the Crows are after. It's Alistair as well."

It figured, Anora would have him killed. Alistair is a threat to her and with him gone, she would manipulate the Landsmeet to support her for the throne. A clever move.

"Great. The Crows, the Howe's and the Mac Tir's all in bed together. So much for a united Fereldan." Tomas frowned and took a large drink of his pint. He wished he could get drunk quicker.

"Well. We'd best get going then my friend there is much killing to be done and—" Zevran stopped midsentence, he saw two men enter the Pearl, and judging by his reaction they were Antivan Crows.

Tomas turned to get a look at them. One of them was an elf, wearing leather armour daggers on his belt. He had the same tattoo on the left side of his face as Zevran. He had short dark hair and pointer ears than most elves. The other was a female, shoulder length ash brown hair and black lips. She wore a modified dwarven leather armour set, her midriff was exposed. Clearly she was well-endowed and her armour made sure everyone new that. She was Nevarran, her skin gave it away. Her skin was lighter than Isabella's. She's quite the looker. Tomas thought. He turned and looked a Zevran, who was now huddling over his mug. Trying to hide his face.

"You know them I take it?" Tomas whispered, trying not to draw too much attention.

"Yes. I do. The elf is called Number Sixty-six." Zevran responded, whispering lower than Tomas was.

"Number Sixty-six? What kind of name is that?"

"He was once a slave in Tevinter, the man who owned him had hundred slaves and he addressed them by number. He has no name of his own and he likes his name. It's his favourite number at the Antivan whorehouses. He is a bit of an idiot, but dangerous with a blade." Tomas didn't want to know what sort of system the Antivan whorehouse worked on. But thanks to Zevran he could make a few guess. And he hated that.

"And the woman?"

Zevran took a sip of his wine before he answered. "Linea Andel. She is a force to be reckoned with. I don't know much about her only that she is the most prized assassin in the Crows. They wouldn't send her here unless serious coin is involved or some political thing that the Crows are invested in."

More trouble.

Tomas reached down to his boot, he made it look like he was to straighten his boot but in fact he was taking out a hidden knife. Zevran gave him a sly look of acceptance.

"You always come prepared don't you." He said, with a smile.

"I learnt from the best."

Zevran let out a quite laugh. "I can't help that I'm such a great teacher. Especially with the ladies."

As they were talking the elven man noticed them. Tomas knew they had been discovered and nodded at Zevran.

"Hey, that's the traitor and the Warden!" Number Sixty-six bellowed. Linea sighed in disapproval.

"Idiot!" She yelled.

She took one of his daggers from his belt and threw it at Tomas. Tomas grabbed his mug and threw it towards the knife with such precision that the knife impacted the mug in mid-air. The mug fell to the floor and alcohol spilled over the rug. Sanga isn't going to like that. The patrons stood up, the whore screamed and ran, and soon the patrons followed them

Linea looked perplexed and impressed at the same time. "You've got skill Warden. I'll give you that one, but can you do it again? She teased, she drew out a dagger from its scabbard, it was a Silverite dagger, custom made. Number Sixty-six handed her another scabbard, another Silverite dagger.

"You are unarmed. You're easy prey." She pointed on of her daggers at Tomas, and another a Zevran. "I'll be swimming in gold when I bring Guildmaster Lorodo your heads."

Zevran looked at her and smiled. "Oh, Lorodo is here? Good to know."

"Who is Lorodo?" Tomas asked, confused.

"He is a Guildmaster of some renown, quite famous and if the rumours are true quite the sex fiend, ha-ha!"

Great, is everyone in the Crows like Zevran? Or is it just the really good ones? Tomas thought. He looked at Sixty-six, he was slowing positioning himself to charge. Linea still pointing her daggers at the two of them, smiled.

"You won't get two him boys. He is with our client. Discussing…our deal." She licked her lips and smiled prettily. "Surrender, Warden. Give us Zevran and I can promise you I will put in a good word with our client, she might even spare you."

"I won't hand him over to you." He moved a step closer. Linea, too stepped closer.

"Thanks Tomas, you know that the Crows would lock you up and display you as a trophy if you'd given into to their deal." Zevran said wiping away sweat from his brow.

Tomas continued to look at Linea. "You told me that once…I think" He said not taking his eyes off her.

"Oh, good." Zevran said. They remained silent for a moment, a creak in the wooden floor from Sixty-six broke the tension. Zevran took out a small dagger from inside his glove and threw it at Sixty-six. Not expecting it the dagger landed its mark between Sixty-six's eyes, blood trailed from his wound as his crumpled to the floor.

Tomas charged at Linea she tried to stab him in the neck, but she blocked her dagger with his small knife. He was stronger than her, and despite his knifes small size he began to push against her. He kept a good distance between them so that her swing would not cut his body. Then she did something that he didn't expect, she slashed at his wrist. He barely dodged the blow. Backing off he knew that he had underestimated her. She was a master at duel wielding. Linea looked behind her at the exit, assessing if she could reach it in time. Something stopped her though. Her eyes looked directly at Tomas.

"Here, catch." She threw one of her daggers at him, he caught the hilt expertly. "An honourable duel. If you win, do what you want with me."

"And if you win." Tomas asked, but he could guess what the answer was.

"I get to kill you and Zev."

Right on the mark.

Zevran rolled towards the exit to block it off in case Linea tried to run from the duel. A good sound plan. Tomas and Linea circled one another until Tomas was facing the exit. Linea moved first. She came in low a feint, to lure him away from her next attack. Tomas parried the feint easily and back stepped to avoid her next attack. He's good. She thought admiring his skills. She moved forward and spun trying to unbalance him. It wasn't going to work. Tomas grabbed her mid spin. A quick strike to the back of her next with the pommel of her own dagger knocked her out. She squeaked as she fell to the floor.

"You move so fast Warden I envy you Grey Wardens at times." Zevran said, looking over Linea unconscious form.

"Well I've dealt with assassins before. You know how it ends" Tomas let out tired laugh.

"Low blow. We should move her to my safe house of interrogation. We need all the information we can get out of her."


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

**FIVE MONTHS AGO**

**IMPERIAL COURT, VAL ROYEAUX**

**ORLAIS**

Sidona sighed. The party was in full swing now many nobles were dancing and wearing porcelain masks each mask matched each individual's dress and outfit. The Empress had left after the ceremony, she claimed to be ill. She was escorted out by her most trusted guards. No one would save Sidona now. She was alone in a sea of nobles and only three Grey Wardens to guard her. It could be worse. Darkspawn could emerge and kill all the nobles. That would put the fear into them and make them take the Blight seriously.

Still no word from Riordan. It was getting close to two months now. Many in the order believed him to be dead. Killed either by the darkspawn or Loghain. The Blight was ravishing southern Fereldan, many innocents killed, lands tainted. And what were the Grey Wardens of Orlais doing? Attending fancy Orlesian parties. What a great picture that painted. Orlesian Wardens being merry at parties while a Blight is loose on the world. The room smelled of cheeses. Bought from all over the world. One cheese that Sidona tasted was said to _taste of despair. _That was one way to describe its taste.

The nobles were gathered in groups each boasting and bragging. Sidona noticed—rather heard—Duke Prosper de Montfort roaring with laugher. Despite not wanting her to be appointed as a royal advisor, he attended the party and drank the wine and ate the cheese, and bragged endlessly about his domesticated wyvern, Leopold and his estate in the Free Marches, _Chateau Haine. _Prosper reminded her of her uncle. Always boasting about his belongings at every chance he got. He left the dalish to live with her aunt, a city elf, she was young at the time around nine years of age. It caused a quite the commotion in the clan as she recalled. Sidona's father was the keeper at the time and he was furious. When the clan fell upon their arrival in Orlais, her uncle took her in and brought her to Val Royeaux. This lead to the bragging about how better life was in the Alienage. With time she got used to it, but during her early teen years she come to realize that he but on a brave face for her. Though it didn't stop him from bragging, her aunt told her once. "He does that to make himself feel better. If you weren't here, he'd be a drunk and probably end up dead in a ditch somewhere." Those words helped, just a bit.

Eventually, life got harder of her uncle, her aunt was murdered by a shemlen, the bills started to rise and her uncle lost his job in the foundry. After turning seventeen, her uncle gave her over to the Templars. She was an apostate in the Chantries eyes, being a dalish's First. She hated her uncle for what he had done. But after becoming an adult she realized he did it as a sort of kindness. He couldn't look after her anymore so he handed her over to the one place that was better than the Alienage, the White Spire.

Her mind was snapped back into the present, when a noble lady with porcelain skin touched her exposed shoulder. "That's quite a unique and beautiful dress. It suits you very well. Do tell me where you got it. I must know!" The noble woman wore a red silk garments. She was brave. The garments wrapped around her body from her chest. Her neck was longer than most humans she had seen and it was highlighted by her jewelled necklace. Rubies, sapphires and a large diamond centre. It must have cost her a small fortune, then again, Orlesian's could afford just about anything.

Sidona's dress was custom made. With the extra gold from the Grey Wardens. She had it tailored weeks in advance. She wore a stylish black pants with slipper like shoes—Maker again with the shoes, at least these were more bearable. Sidona put them on in a rush without looking if they matched, thank the Maker they did. The nobles wouldn't let her here the end of It.—her top was a pale green tunic made from the finest materials. The tunic exposed her shoulders and the top of her chest just above her breast. It showed of her cleavage nicely, just the way she wanted.

Sidona spent the next half an hour talking to the woman. Her name was Vivian de Jennette, she openly supported Empress Celene. Her husbanded owned several mines across Orlais. It was said her family were the wealthiest nobles in Orlais. She had called over for some more wine. The conversation became less about her and more about the Blight. Sidona told Vivian of the darkspawns taint, how it corrupts everything it touches, from grass to stone. She told old tales of the pestilence that the darkspawn bring with them and of ghouls. The information seemed to have sobered up her opinion on the Blight.

"Oh, Maker. Our empire has grown too complacent in the matter of the Wardens and Blights. If a Blight is truly as bad as you say." Vivian said gasping like a typical Orlesian.

"If you still don't believe me. Go to southern Fereldan. It's suffering a Blight. And if Fereldan falls, the world might soon follow." Sidona put a lot of effort into sounding serious. Her own words made her worry. It was up to Fereldan to save the world now. The Grey Warden's numbers across the world were too few to deal with a worldwide Blight. The Archdemon would need to be killed and only a Grey Warden could kill it.

Vivian left speechless. Hopefully she would go on to tell others and hopefully the Wardens would get the support they needed to prepare for the Blights arrival. The Wardens would need many allies within each of the major civilizations of Thedas. Sidona once thought of suggesting to the Warden-Commander, that they approach the Qunari people for aid. But she knew the answer already.

"We will not allow those heathens to help us!"

That would be the general response to her suggestion and the kindest. Qunari are not thought of often and when they are it is negative. There Qun rivals the Chantry, and since the Chantry believes that anyone who doesn't believe in the Maker is a heretic, the Qunari haven't made many friends in Thedas.

The party seemed to go on forever, Sidona swore that more people had arrived. Now the dancing had begun. Spinning, turning, bowing and slow stepping dominated the floor. A sea of colours darting about it gave her a headache. The threat on her life had not materialized itself. If it was, now would be the perfect time. The dancing and constant shifting of the nobility was the perfect opportunity for a highly skilled assassin to strike. Sidona was approached by Jean, he was one of her guards. He was a native to Rivain as evident by his dark brown skin.

"We've caught four assassins in the past hour. You should be safe but we will continue to watch." He was a man of few words, this was the most that she had ever heard out of him. She didn't even notice that they had caught anyone. That was a testament to the Grey Wardens skill.

"Oh, goody. I was hoping have a crack at an assassin." She chuckled.

Jean left her as quickly he had arrived. Bastard never seems to stay and enjoy a joke. At least Jardukr and Narder were protecting her, they would at least keep her entertained until the party was done. She began to think about her party that she would throw at the end of the week. It was a leaving party for Jard and Narder. She would throw a better party than...this.

Since the beginning of the party, Sidona mingled with the crowed to get a sense of what they thought of her. Most were open-minded and we happy to welcome her and make her feel wanted within the nobility. The bigots made sure that she was unwanted. Treating her like a glorified servant, she had to be held back by Jard from unleashing her magic upon them. She wished she had, the Empire would be better without them.

Yet another hour past, and no more assassins tried to kill her. Sidona saw an opportunity to slip out of the party. She'd only be gone for a moment...at least. It was eerily quite. The halls of the Imperial Court echoed each of Sidona's steps. She took of her shoes to stop the echoes, she didn't want to announce her presence to anyone. Though three assassins were caught the others may have adapted their strategy and take her outside. Now she regretted leaving the party.

Each hall looked the same to her, and she quickly became lost in the maze of similar looking halls with the same red carpets, stone carvings and suits of armour. The only halls she knew were ones that walls were adorned with paintings of former Emperors and Empresses of the Orlesian Empire. _Great, lost in the halls of the Imperial Court. The nobles will be having their fun when they hear of this. _Sidona thought, reaching to open another set of wooden doors.

Out of nowhere…the sound of boots on stone echoed the hallway as Sidona entered. She quickly hid behind a stone statue, she held her breath as the steps grew closer and then…silence. A door creaked open and two footsteps echoed in the halls.

"Ah, it seems you owe me thirty royals Lord Beland. The _Crows _showed." A female voice chuckled. It sounded familiar Sidona could not place it.

Beland. The Lord Chancellor of Tantervale in the Free Marches. He was invited to the party by the Empress, from what Sidona had heard he was here to seek aid should the Blight consume Fereldan. May Fereldan's fled the county to escape the Blight, their only option—other than Orlais and Nevarra—was the Free Marches. Sidona had heard many whispers about the Fereldan refugee problem in the Free Marches. _Oh they fight to the bitter end to kick us out, but when a few darkspawn appear the common folk drop there, pitchfork's and manure and abandon the country _that was what many of the nobility said.

Lord Chancellor Beland was with a woman that much was certain, she had a light Orlesian accent, but that didn't help with who she was.

"Ah, yes. Well lets here what you have to say then…" Beland asked to one of the two individuals.

"Straight to the chase Lord Chancellor? You really do live up to your nickname. My name is Linea, remember it well," Linea said, she spoke with a thick Antivan accent. Sidona wanted to get a good look at her, but the statue she hid behind was just large enough to hide her elven body.

"I was sent, with my…associate to contact you with…and offer, from the King of Antiva." Linea continued, her associate moved closer to her. Sidona could sense magic on him. No. A curse.

"The King of Antiva? You take me for a fool. He has no _real _power. Antiva is a Plutocracy. Speak plain, which wealthy Antiva has put you up to this?" Beland said, Sidona could tell that Beland was disinterested in what Linea had to say.

"He may now. But after his plan succeeds. Well that will be different. And _you _can help in his plan." Line sounded menacing.

Beland took a step back. "So, _that's _how _he _wants to play it. Fine, assassin you played a good game, and won. But the next Lord Chancellor won't be so easy to lure out. Now take your kill, earn your pay!" Beland sounded defiant.

Sidona heard a weapon unsheathe and then the tearing of flesh and the dripping of blood. The woman must have slit Beland's throat. A moment later, she heard a _thump_ as Beland's body hit the floor. The Orlesian woman that led Beland to his doom was chackling loudly.

"Yes, yes, yes! Next we kill the Empress! I can't wait. Ha-ha!" She yelled, not caring who heard her.

"Shut up you Orlesian bitch. We don't want anyone to hear us!" Linea said, she moved further away. "Get your people to move his body. Tell your mage to preserve his body, and make sure your people make it look like some sort of a bandit attack."

"Yes! Don't worry. My best people are close at hand." The woman said, snapping her fingers three times. The doors creaked open and more footsteps approached. The grabbed Beland body and dragged it away. This was well planned. A professional hit.

"You've earned your pay. Lady de Jennette." Line said. _Vivian? Her voice sounds so different. What is going on here?_ Sidona thought.

Then Sidona heard the giggling of coin. It sounded as if she threw a coin purse at Vivian de Jennette. A bribe or payment? There was a silence for a long moment before the doors shut. Sidona peeked from behind the statue. They were gone. Sidona looked at where she thought Beland was standing. There was no blood. They must have cleaned it up. These assassins were most certainly professionals. And Vivian called them crows and the woman, Linea said she had an offer from the King of Antiva. Then it clicked in her mind. The King of Antiva is making a move against the other countries.

_I've got to warn Celene! _Sidona thought, she ran back the way she came. In the shadows, Linea stepped out followed by a strange looking woman in brown robes. What skin was exposed was a grey colour and marked with red tattoos. He towered over Linea. His face was covered by a hood.

"Looks like we have a witness." She said calmly.

The strange woman, waved a hand at her and grunted. "No, don't kill her. She is a Grey Warden, and a powerful blood mage. We might need her. Take her alive, I trust you can handle her, Abanissala?" The woman gave an empathetic grunt.

Sidona rushed through what was the maze of corridors. In the back of her mind, she felt a strange presence. A magic that was unfamiliar to her. It was outside of the Circle of Magi. An apostate? Whatever it was closing and fast. Before she knew it she was flying through a window. What was that? A telekinetic burst? How did the mage close the distance between them so quickly? The questions would have to wait. Sidona landed in the courtyard it wasn't a long fall so nothing was broken. Sidona was shocked when a female giant appeared in front of her in a blue flash.

"You…how did you do that?" Sidona asked quickly.

The woman grunted at her angrily, lightning began to flicker around the woman's hands, charging for a stun Sidona noticed.

In response, Sidona placed a force field around her to protect against the unnamed assailants attack. The lightning erupted from the woman's long fingernails and struck the force field. It field held.

Sidona ran to her right using her speed to get behind her attacker. She charged a quick ice spell in her hand, she didn't have to time to focus it to be stronger she prayed it would do the trick. The assailant was slow to respond before she could turn to face Sidona, Sidona had struck. The assailant froze in place.

_She makes a nice statue. _Sidona thought. Without thinking or looking back, Sidona ran for the door leading back into the building. She was shocked to see Templars.

"You were preforming magic spells in the Imperial Court. You'll hand for that knife ears!" One Templar yelled.

"Hey I was being attacked, by some weird giant of a woman. Look behind me!" Sidona yelled back, pointing her thumb in the direction of the courtyard.

The Templar looked passed her and laughed. "What giant? There's nothing there." The other Templar burst out laughing.

Sidona turned around and looked into the courtyard. The area where she froze her assailant was empty. No frozen giant woman, just the stillness of the night. One of the Templars grabbed her by the arm. "You're coming with us knife ears." The man yelled and yanked her away from the door.

"I'm the royal advisor to Empress Celene. And a Grey Warden. Unhand me" Sidona yelled and tried to pull away but she was too weak compared to a fully grown human male.

These Templars wouldn't listen to reason no matter how many times she told them of her rank and position. They responded with the same old words. "The Chantry supersedes the Empire and the Grey Wardens in all matters! Learn that you filthy knife ear!" This night turned out more troublesome than Sidona had previously thought. She would need to get word to Empress Celene about the plot her life was a stake and the Templars would not stop her from escaping from the Spire. Sidona began to store magical energies, she would need it later on.

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_ A/N: Next Chapter will be awhile I don't know yet, I have no time-frame sorry. _

_If you are a follower of this piece of fan fiction or not please leave a review. Any review good or bad will help me do better in the future. So please drop a review or write out a concern you have about the story so far. Thanks._


	7. Chapter 7

_I'm back! :) Sorry for the long wait. Hope you enjoy this chapter._

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CHAPTER SEVEN

**PRESENT DAY**

**ZERVAN'S SAFEHOUSE, DENERIM **

**FERELDAN**

Dogs barked loudly at nearby cats and strangers in the streets below. The hustle and bustle of the market centre could be heard from the distance. Customers were haggling loudly with the merchants selling their wares. The booming sound of a dwarven voice echoed. It was difficult to picture that Denerim had been a battlefield just a month ago. Tomas closed the window when he spotted Zevran returning with his servant with a wooden trunk. The servants name was Arron, a skinny boy of fifteen, Tomas hired him a week after the battle. He knew Arron from Highever, helped Aldous teach them of the history of the Couslands just before Arl Howe's men arrived. Arron survived and his family swore fealty to the Howe family and were sent to his new estate in Denerim.

Tomas turned to face the woman who was tied up on the chair in the centre of the room. Linea, an Antivan who was part Nevarran. She was Tomas' prisoner, information needed to be extracted to help prevent Alistair assassination. And to find out what Anora was truly up to. Tomas was now having doubts about Anora's involvement with the assassination plot. Eamon assured him a month ago that Anora would never ally with a Howe, which is why she turned against her father in the first place.

Rendon Howe, during the war he did such terrible things to everyone. No one was out of his reach. Not even Anora who he tormented and even locked up without Loghain's permission. That alone earned all Howe her wrath. The latest he'd heard on Anora was that she denounced her clam to the throne—publically—so even if Alistair was killed, the freeholders and the Bannorn would never allow her to sit on the throne. And Daniel Howe, the Howe's were not even nobility anymore. They were pariahs now, no one trusted them not even the Chasind Wilders would trust them—then again, they never trust nobility. The whole situation was strange, many conflicts and little answers.

Zevran had gotten him in to this mess, Zevran had that ability, a very annoying ability but at least it wasn't boring. Zevran's safe house was under furnished there was a wooden table with bowels and a chair, which was used to sit Linea on and that was it in the house. Sure there were secret compartments here and there with armour and weapons, but they were old and the leather armour was falling apart while the steel armour was rusted. How long has Zevran had this safe house for? A few decades?

That was one of the reasons Tomas sent Zevran to get his servant. That and to get in contact with his informants within the Crows. Both Zevran and Tomas began to doubt the information. Tomas walked to the door to meet Zevran and Arron. He stopped when he heard a low groan from Linea. She began to wake up.

"Ouch," She groaned, her right arm twitched and she quickly realized she was tied up. "Oh, Ow. So you spared me then…"

"Yes," Tomas said, while unlocking the door. "I have questions."

"I'm not giving them out. Just so you know and don't bother torturing me. I can endure a lot." She replied defiantly. She was certainly being difficult about this, she was not like Zevran, who—after being defeated by Tomas—spilled his guts, so to speak. The Crows believed if an assassin failed then their life was forfeit, so why would she not what to talk. Unless the Crows policy had changed in a span of a month?

Unlikely.

"I won't torture you…yet. I was hoping we could work something out. Is that possible?" He asked. Tomas took a seat on the wooden table he didn't put too much of his wright on it for fear that the old table would break.

Linea looked away. She wasn't going to talk today. Tomas slowly stood up and made his way to the door and left. Zevran greeted him downstairs while Arron carefully placed the trunk in the corner. Tomas moved towards Zevran and lowed his head to Zevran's ear.

"Our guest is awake." Tomas whispered.

Zevran nodded and made his way to the door leading to the room upstairs. Arron noticed this and gave Tomas a queer look.

"You planning to bed that elf?" He asked very bluntly.

Tomas was talking aback by the question. "No! He is just going to 'chat' with a guest."

Arron looked at him and shrugged. "Well, I brought you, your gear. As requested." Arron said moving to leave the house. "Before I forget, a letter arrived for you." Arron placed the unopened envelope on top of the truck. Tomas handed him two sovereigns and the boy did a quick sprint out of the house. Eger to spend his coin.

Tomas picked the letter up and immediately recognized who sent it by its handwriting, Leliana. She left for Orlais three days after Alistair's coronation. She was to help the Divine in matters only a skilled bard could, which was all he knew.

He opened it and held it up to the closest light source. The room as dark even during the day. In her letter she described her feelings towards him in beautiful detail and the sorrow she feels at their break up. Tomas, regretted that. He ended the relationship on the night before the battle after Riordan told him what happens when a Grey Warden kills an Archdemon. He did so to spar her much grief if he took the blow—which he did and survived.

Now, all he wanted was to hold her close in his arms, but that wasn't going too happened, not now.

Leliana continued to on to a sensitive matter, his visions. After surviving killing the Archdemon, he began to experience strange dreams—visions. His dreams were filled with shadows whispering in a strange language, walking around a strange throne room. Each time a voice could be heard; this city was always black! Our gods lied to use!

Then he woke from the dream in a cold sweat, the dream still lingering on him. He told himself it was just his body recovering from the stress of the Archdemon's soul attacking his own. But in the back of his mind he knew he was…changed.

After reading the last sentence he neatly folded the letter and place it back in its envelope. He sighed, Leliana was gone, he missed her and the letter was yet another reminder of what he had given up. It was near night fall and Zevran had yet to come down from his talk with Linea.

To pass the time Tomas opened the trunk he had delivered and equipped his armour. Just as he began to place the straps on his knee guards in place, Zevran came down happy with himself.

"Did she talk?" He quickly asked.

Zevran sat down, pondering on his encounter. Finally he spoke. "Oh yes, she 'talked' and what a talker she is. She informed me of the latest fashion in Antiva and of a new leather shop opening,"

"Anything that can help with stopping the assassination?" Tomas was getting a bit impatient. Zevran wiped sweat from his brow and sighed.

"Come now, I was getting to that. You always listen to my stories when we had camp during the Blight, now you want me to hurry up. You are a cruel man, but I understand things are different. Well, she wasn't going to betray her comrades for some reason, she told me nothing of where their base of operations is."

"Strange. You talked when you failed to assassinate me. I thought the Crows killed assassins who fail? Wouldn't she at least want to harm them or run? I don't like this one bit." Tomas said, placing his sword in its scabbard.

Zevran looked at him, trying to figure out the puzzle in his head. And from the look of the faces he was pulling he was having little success.

"I have no clue. Maybe the Guildmaster's don't want her to talk of their plans. But then again if she lives then she is more of a threat to their plans." Zevran eyes widened in shock. "They are going to kill her, we've been thinking that she won't talk because she will be spared by the Crows when in truth she is just being loyal. Silly girl." Zevran's words were filled with contempt, but his eyes were filled with pity.

Tomas moved to the window to check for any shady character lurking about. But in this part of Denerim everyone looked shady, especially at this time. "Should we move her?" Tomas asked, his eyes still darting left and right looking at the street outside.

"No. Not necessary the Crows won't learn of her survival for a while." Zevran boasted.

A loud tump was heard from upstairs, looking at each other Tomas and Zevran ran upstairs to their surprise an elf stood over Lina's body. His daggers dripping with blood. Linea had been stabbed, but she was smart and made a noise to alert Zevran and Tomas of the intruder. Though it was a strange move on her part, she was uncooperative. She just needed to stay silent and let the intruder kill her. It was strange, it could be a trap.

"Wait…that's Sixty-Six!" Zevran yelled.

"What…you killed him. A knife to the head. He can't be alive."

Yet he was standing there, where the knife had landed was replaced with a scar. The elf smiled and ran towards the open window and jumped out. Zevran ran after him. Tomas attended to Linea. She was bleeding badly, she was stabbed once in the stomach, hitting vital organs. He held the wound to try and stop the bleeding but he knew it was pointless, if Wynne were here, she might have been able to save her. She regain conscious and realized she wasn't dead.

"That useless fucking idiot." She said it was almost like a whisper.

"I take it you didn't make the noise." Tomas asked.

She closed her eyes hoping she'd die any moment soon. "He pushed me over, unthinking…you won't be able to kill him."

"Is a curse keeping him alive?" Tomas asked, remembering Zathrian, a dalish keeper, who created a curse centuries ago and that same curse kept him alive until he undone it.

"I…think so." She gasped hard, and began to cough.

"Tell me where your people are, tell me who is with them." Tomas demanded.

"You…think…I'd tell you…no…I am loyal to…my…country, as you…are loyal…to…to…Fereldan." She began to slip away. The blood from her wound began to slowly stop flowing out of her. Life drained away from her eyes and her breathing slowed to the point where it seems she wasn't breathing. The look on her face, showed that she had some regret.

"The warehouse…in the…dock…the harbour master…will ask you for…a password…that pass word is…'where do the crows roost?' he will…he will take you…to the one who can give you answers…and where…you'll…you…" Before she could finish her sentence she died. Weather it was out of regret or guilt she revealed that to him. It was highly likely in her dying words she was hoping he'd go to the harbour and walk into an ambush. Tomas had faced many ambushing during the Blight. But Tomas heard the sincerity in her voice, Tomas would have to be careful from here on.

Tomas left the now deceased Linea on the floor and left the house. He hoped to catch up the Zevran and help him with Sixty-Six. Tomas hoped that Zevran was okay, going up against an immortal elf was not always a good idea. Whatever was holding his life to this world must be powerful, and powerful would mean dangerous too. _I hope Zevran can handle him until I get there, _Tomas thought. The problem now was finding them. Tomas had no idea which way they had went, which alley ways they ran thought nothing. It would be guess work from here on. Denerim's streets looked different now after they were repaired. The Blight left most of the capital unrecognizable when he and the army arrived. Towers blown up, homes on fire, bridges bent and broken. It was a small miracle that the battle was won. Now the streets looked cleaner and straight. The brown and grey colours that dominated the city were now lighter and more colours were added thanks to banners and signs. The streets were always dark before the battle, now men and women came out of their houses to light lanterns to help people see. They did this to help the workers clean out the rubble left over from the battle, the workers worked at night when the streets weren't so busy.

Tomas ran passed a few groups lighting the lanterns. He stopped to ask if they had seen too elves running past, they looked at him with confused faces. "There are always elves running 'round here. Be more specific." An elderly man yelled at him from a window. No help at all at this time of night.

The night was full now and still no sign of Zevran or Sixty-Six. He had spent most of his time asking around seeing if anyone saw him, but there barely anyone out at night, save for brave men and elves looking to mug anyone. Tomas had to cut down two groups of these _brave_ men who attempted to rob him. The sea air could be felt and smelt, he was close to the docks now. Remembering what Linea's dying words were, he began to make his way to the docks. The closer he got the sea air became stronger, the salty smell covered up the vomit filled alley way he past thought which was a relief.

After turning a corner, he saw the entrance to the docks. A broken portcullis still yet to be repaired, it was guarded by two men leaning on spears. They looked asleep but one of them leaned towards the other and whispered something. They had noticed him. Tomas sighed and walked towards them.

"Halt Hero, what is your business at this hour?" The older one asked. He had a pig-like face, his cheeks were red from the cold and he was sweating.

"I am looking for my friend. A blonde elf with a tattoo on the left side of his face. Did he pass through here?" Tomas replied. The younger one snorted at him. "An elf out at this time. He's dead my friend. Dying in some gutter next to a whore house." The older man laughed with his young friend.

"These elves always die near that place. They piss off the locals you see." The pig faced man uttered.

Tomas sighed out in exasperation. "What do you mean by 'they piss off the locals'?"

The pig faced man turned to his younger friend and mouthed something to him. The younger man shock his head and walked back to his post. "You see, um… well. Theirs is this lordling, from what I hear it he is some bastard son of some Arl. Well he's rallying up the folk here to kill elves. He hates 'em a lot and pays good coin for each elf's death." The man looked at his feet, he was wearing steel caped leather boots. He quickly looked back up. "He pays me five sovereigns to make sure that I informed him of any elves round these parts. And I haven't seen one tonight. I swear."

The man story sickened him. After everything the elves did to fight the darkspawn they were now being hunted down by some bastard lordling. He'd have to deal with this lordling later on when the Kings life was not on the line. "Can you tell me were the harbour master is?" Tomas asked.

"Aye… he is over seeing some cargo brought in from Orlais, the person hasn't come to claim it yet so Yurem, that's the Harbour master, is waiting. He's been waiting for at least an hour now." The man pointed at a warehouse, it looked nothing like a warehouse more like a noble's estate from Kirkwall, some surface dwarf's must have built it or repaired it. It had fine stone work, it looked brand new.

Tomas said nothing to the man and walked towards the warehouse. Whatever this cargo was it was something that Linea and the Crows wanted. He had the feeling that's what Linea and Sixty-Six were after in Fereldan. He and Zevran were to come after. And since no one had come for the mysterious cargo meant that Sixty-Six had not claimed it. Could Zevran still be chasing him?

The fine wooden door enhanced with a steel outline, lay open, hauntingly inviting. Inside the warehouse was strongly cold, to keeps food preserved no doubt. There were crates of cargo, chests and barrels each marked with a different seal form each nation's port authority; Orlais, Tevinter, Kirkwall and Rivain were among the more distinguished of seals. "Hello," Tomas words echoed lightly, and gave no reply. Moving through the crates and barrels to an opened up part of the warehouse, two figures were sitting on barrels next to a large wooden box. Its front had a large Orlesian port authority symbol on it. A greying man leaped off the barrel and power walked towards him.

"Please tell me you are here for this… cargo." The man said, his lips were trembling, from the cold of the warehouse or from fear?

"Are you Yurem the Harbour master? I shouted before but I didn't get a reply." Tomas asked.

The man bowed his head, his hair was receding and greying. "Yes, I am him. The password?" The other man on the barrel jumped down. He was younger, scruffy looking. His hair was black and a mess of curls, he was a teenager, what age, Tomas couldn't tell. He reached for something behind him.

"'Where do the crows roost?" Tomas repeated the words that line told him. He expected the man to begin to explain everything, but he looked the person who only followed orders. Perhaps he'd lead him to the one who knew.

A grim smile stretched across the old man's face. "Excellent, most excellent. This…cargo is for you then after all." The man laughed and snapped his fingers to the young boy behind him. The young boy took out a fine wooden—wand—and waved it about. A magical sound could be heard, a sound of unlocking.

"There. Clam it, I'll go fill out the paper work. Come boy!" The man and the boy made their way from the area. Tomas waited until he was sure they were gone to open the large wooden doors. He sensed something from within he didn't a moment ago. The taint. There someone—something—that had the taint in them inside the large crate. But the taint felt, small inside whoever—whatever—was inside. Like they'd only been tainted for a few months.

_A Grey Warden, _he snapped into his mind. He quickly opened the door to find a bound elven female, wearing fancy Orlesian robes with the Grey Warden heraldry embroiled in the centre of the chest. The elf eyes slowly opened, Tomas knew she could sense the taint within him as she didn't panic, she looked relived. He moved towards her and ungagged her. She took deep breaths, drinking in fresh air. How long had she been a prisoner?

"Who are you? A Grey Warden from Orlais?" Tomas wanted to ask more questions. But first he'd have to make sure that this girl was on his side.

"My name is Sidona Andras. And yes _I am _an Orlesian Grey Warden." She said, full of sass.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry for updating late. Been distracted by The Witcher 2 and Dragon's Dogma: Dark Arisen. Thanks for taking the time to read my amateur fan fiction.**

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CHAPTER EIGHT

**FOUR MONTHS AGO, WHITE SPIRE' DUNGEON**

**ORLAIS**

"It seems the Empress is unhappy, to say the least, at your imprisonment… elf." The young Templar guard said full of venom. For six weeks he guarded Sidona and had to endure all the childish insults that she could think of as well as the odd insults in the ancient and all-but-forgotten elven language. Her first attempt to escape work well at the start—but she underestimated the White Spire's defensives and the Templars. She was then restrained with magic blocking cuffs made of refined Lyrium and enchanted to restrict her movements. "If only those cuffs shut your mouth!" Her young Templar guard said after his third day guarding her.

"Not got anything to say today then? Good. I can get back to my thoughts now." The young man said, little did he know, he had set himself up for another round of annoyance.

"What thoughts? Oh right of your love interest… what's his name again, oh yeah, Tysat. The young and very, very handsome Templar. Sorry to say Micah, he is into elves." Sidona mocked. She had listened to all the gossip from passers. She had good hearing, and exploited it to annoy Micah. "I wonder what the Knight-Commander would say about… your lusts. Well he might even know."

Micah's face burnt bright red with rage. He wanted so badly to open the cell and beat her, but he learnt the hard way not to open the cell door. Even though her movements were restricted and her magic sealed, she still packed a mean punch. Micah instead slammed his fist on the wooden door he was guarding. "Poor little Micah." She said in a sing-song voice. Micah left the room, slamming the door behind him. "Hey! I wasn't finished! Spoil sport!" She yelled. He left her alone in the White Spires, not so white dungeons. The dungeon had not been used since the Steel Age, according to many in the Chantry. It was bleak and brown and bronze in colour and—surprisingly—clean.

Micah would always do this. If he got to anger he left to vent is rage in the barracks. A sound move for the Templar, but with each passing day he was getting easily frustrated by Sidona. From what the Knight-Commander had told her, the Empress is doing everything in her power to get her out of the White Spire. Sidona had sent a warning to the Empress about a foreign assassination attempted, it reached her in time. But the Templars refused to hand Sidona over. The Chantry was being stubborn, not wishing to unleash a Grey Warden mage, who disobeyed the rules and used magic where it was forbidden.

_They always like to drag their heels when it comes to politics, _Sidona thought. In Orlais, the Chantry is the second most powerful force, the Empress had to be careful at how she handled the situation. Sidona's appointment was already controversial and now, Celene, was trying to rescue her advisor an elven advisor. She wouldn't be popular after that. The Grey Wardens also tried to secure her freedom, but were unsuccessful. The Chantry accused them of harbouring apostates, she expected that. The Chantry and the Grey Wardens weren't the best of pals when it came to the Wardens recruiting mages into their ranks. Mainly due to lack of Chantry oversight within the Grey Wardens.

During the six weeks in the dungeon of the White Spire, Sidona often thought about Jardukr and Narder. She had wanted to throw them a going away party, but her imprisonment by the Templars made that impossible. By now they'd been in Tevinter. Narder would have needed his Lyrium by now. She wondered if they had tried to help her get out or did they go to Tevinter already? She wouldn't know until she got out of the White Spire, the Templar's would have taken all letters to her and burnt them. They didn't want anyone to talk to their prisoners. She wanted out. After a while, she heard the footsteps of someone approaching. They were light, she barely heard them until they got closers. It was a woman's foot step, a Chantry Sister perhaps. As quick as she came the woman left, she must have handed a letter to Micah.

Micah open the door and entered glaring at her. "So you calmed down?" She teased.

He continued to glower at her while returning to his position. Today felt like it was going to be extremely long. Micah looked calmer than usual, normally he would still be red faced when he came back in. Whatever the woman gave him he was clearly furious.

"I take it then the Empress has secured my release?" Sidona slowly stood up, expecting to be released then and there.

"Your very perceptive knife ears." Micah shot an anger glance away from her. He hated her for it, she was always right. He tried to lie once and was utterly humiliated in front of his friends. The lie was that he had sex with three of the most beautiful and popular Chantry Sisters. Sidona had gotten to know them as they were the ones who looked after her since she was imprisoned. She told them of his boast and when he was bragging about it in front of her with his pals again the Chantry Sisters came in and Sidona pressured him by asking questions. The Chantry Sisters all slapped him and left angrily.

"Next time don't boast when you're clearly gay." Sidona reminded him in a taunt.

"Enough! Two of your fellow Wardens are coming to collect you." Micah spat, but she could tell that he was relieved that she was finally leaving. His life could get back to some normality now, despite his reputation being extremely tarnished. Sidona was happy now and somewhat relieved that her imprisonment was at an end. "So when will they arrive?" She asked.

"In a few hours. Now shut it!"

"Can I at least have my meal while I wait?"

Micah sighed and left the room. The sound of keys turning in a lock was strangely comforting for Sidona it made her feel at peace, free from the gaze of a Templar. Micah returned half an hour later, followed by three Chantry Sister wearing long smiles on their faces. Two of the were holding bowls, the larger one had vegetable soup in in, the other had warm water and the last Chantry Sister gave a flagon of wine for Micah, who drank it down so fast like it was his last drink. The two other Chantry Sister's fused over Sidona, feeding her terrible vegetable soup. It was possibly made from leftovers from dinner. They always mixed their leftovers into soup for her, they didn't want to waste their 'good' stock of food on a prisoner, especially a mage prisoner.

"I've had enough of the soup, thanks." Sidona said to the Chantry Sister who was feeding her. The sister had short blonde hair and small violet eyes. She put the spoon back into the bowel and stood up. Sidona glowered at her with her blue eyes, which made the sister feel unnerved.

"Don't let this heretic get to you Beth." The other sister called out to her. It seemed this sister believe hole heartily in the Maker. Only those who fully devoted themselves to the Chantry called any non-believers—and elves—heretics.

Beth sighed. "You need to be more open minded, Ves. I am sure the Maker will judge this soul with an open mind."

Ves shot a look that would kill. "Don't be soft, you let these heretics poison your mind. You need to have stronger convictions."

Micah approached them and pointed to the door. "You've finished your tasks, leave. Debate in your own time not while doing the Maker's work." The two sisters scurried out of the dungeon. Once they left they began to argue about the Maker. How the Chantry Sisters loved to talk about their own personal views on the Maker, which made the higher-ups in the Chantry very upset. Rumours went around the White Spire of Chantry Sisters and Lay Sisters being 'disciplined' for spreading their own personal theories.

"Well then… The Knight-Commander wants you up top when we hand you over to the Wardens. Don't know how the secured your release knife ears." Micah turned to door and opened it.

"So you're going to get your love interest to help carry me out? For a Shem you lust after the wrong sex." Sidona offered one last taught.

"So what!" Micah yelled. She'd done it now, he snapped. "You elven folk fuck the same gender as well, I've seen them do it in the brothel!"

"Oh, you've seen 'city elves' in brothels. They _are _not true elves." Sidona yelled back in defence. True, some elves did fall in love with the same gender but those were city elves who did not care for the future of their race. The elven people were slowly dying off, elves falling in love with Shems and same gender romances weakened the race even further. Sidona was born a Dalish she was her clans first and held to the traditions of the elves.

Micah stormed out, it seemed, for now, that Sidona won the argument. _I thought that was going to be worse than it was, _she thought to herself.

It was an hour before the Templars arrived. Micah was not there with them, perhaps they sent him away do to his recent outburst or maybe he excused himself. Really it didn't matter, she would not see him again after this. Only three Templar had arrived, all clad in their steel armour with the Templar symbol adorned on their chests. They lead her to the upper floor of the White Spire. It was the same as it was back when she was last there. It was colourless in her eyes. The pillars looked the same, the Templars guarding the main entrance were the same. At the doors stood Jardukr and Narder. She was happy and shock to see them. The First Enchanter undid the shackles. First Enchanter, Uriel, he was old and greying Elf he taught Sidona when she first arrived and always saw her as his star pupil even now.

"Relax lass, your safe now." His word were comforting to her. He was the only one in the White Spire who she ever trusted. Mainly because he was an elf, but also because he was kind to everyone and wise. He was not a firm believer in the Maker, for which the Chantry did not like.

"Unless the Chantry is destroyed, then I'll never be safe, no mage will be." Sidona said as a whisper, so that the Templars did here her.

"Be careful what you say here child. The Grey Wardens will keep you safe." Uriel said look back at the Templars.

"Only until the Chantry decides that all mages, regardless of their allegiances must be killed." Sidona once enjoyed debating on the ethics of the Chantry with him—once—but those days had long past and now she tried her best to persuade mages to stop believing in the Chantry and seek their freedom from the oppressive oversight of the Chantry.

"Dear child, that day will never come. They preach that the Maker is kind to all his creations. In time they will realize what they are doing is wrong and make amends—"

"That day will never, ever come." Sidona cut him off. Before he could say another word Sidona joined her fellow Wardens and they turned and left quickly. Sidona looked over her shoulder at Uriel, he looked as upset as the day she was taken from the spire. The day she'll never forget. A few weeks before hand, a mage kidnapped her from the spire and forced Blood magic onto her. When the Templars found her they had the intention to kill her without asking any questions, but she eluded them. Two Grey Wardens saw her fight two Templar hunters while they were scouting the countryside of Orlais looking for a darkspawn raiding party seen in the area. They intervened and invoked the right of conscription on her. They took her and the Templar hunters back to the spire to inform the Grand Cleric of the conscription and also to get Sidona's belongings. Uriel tried to convince her to stay in the spire, however she had none of it as she believed that the Wardens were far better than the Chantry and left with the Wardens.

"Don't worry old man. I'll be fine." Sidona said softly. She turned away, she could not bear to see Uriel's sad face anymore.

Outside the spire the night sky was clear, the stars were out it was a beautiful sight. Jardukr looked at Sidona with his small dwarven eyes. He was waiting for her to ask why they are here, but he could tell that seeing Uriel again had affected her. Narder was shacking, he was in deep with his withdraw symptoms. The former Templar would need a dose of the dust and soon. His blood shot eyes told the whole story, he sacrificed his own well-being for his friend and now he was paying the price.

"So," Sidona started. "You never went to Tevinter?"

Narder was still shacking. "What about the Lyrium dust you need. You didn't have to stay here for me."

Jard shock his head in disagreement. "Lass, we are more than friends. We are a mix matched family. You may not like it, but we are we would never abandon you no matter what. And, you still owe us that party."

Tears began to swell in her eyes. She thought she wouldn't be this touched by what Jard said, but it hit her hard.

"I… I would never leave you behind… y-y-ou are my friend. I can…kick this…addiction…even if it kills me." Narder struggled to get the words out. He was in pain but still he pushed on. A normal Templar would be bedridden by now, having someone take care of him until the Lyrium dust came. Maybe the taint within him made him resilient.

Sidona felt hot streams of tears running down her face, without thinking she hugged Narder, who, with difficulty embraced her in return.

"Hey! Where's my hug?" Jard yelled friendly of course.

* * *

**IMPERIAL COURT, EMPRESS CELENE'S SOLAR**

Sidona entered the Empress's Solar wearing a fashionable Orlesian noble outfit with the Grey Warden heraldry embroiled in the centre of the chest.

"Was it really necessary to use magic?" Celene I asked as soon as the door opened. Sidona was in the Empress solar, her only place of solace and escape from the trappings of court. Sidona never expect it to be so…stylish and it matched Celene's personality.

"It was that mage as well... it was using magic I have never seen before. I had to defend myself." Sidona replied.

Celene looked at her, Sidona was kneeled on the floor, her head bowed low. "Well, I don't mind _my _advisor using magic in the Imperial Court. As long as it is to defend of course." Celene stood up and made her way to Sidona, she touched her chin with her index and middle finger and gently raised her head.

"You should not have been arrested by the Templars. The Chantry were watching you carefully ever since I appointed you. They did not like that a mage was mingling in politics, they were waiting for an excuse to take you to the spire." Celene gestured her to rise with her left hand. Sidona's heart was beating fast in her chest, it was strange Celene never _touched _anyone it was—concerning.

"The Chantry is becoming too bold," Celene began. "They think they should have supreme authority over all Thedosian politics."

Sidona believed it. The Chantry is the major religion that has spread across all of Thedas in nearly all nations, except for the Qunari territories and large parts Rivain. It wasn't a stretch to believe that the Chantry would take over the world and begin dictating to people how they should live their lives. In fact they have already begun with the mages. Their views on non-believers was really harsh if they ruled the world non-believers would not be safe.

"I fear that there will be a war. I don't know who we will be fighting, but I feel that the Chantry will be at the centre of it. I fear all of Thedas will be dragged into it, it's my duty to preserve Orlais." Celene wrapped her arms around Sidona.

"That war won't come unless the Blight is not stopped. And even if it is we need to deal with the Antivan Crows, there plot against you and all the rules of other nations." Sidona gently pushed the Empress away, as to not offend her much.

Celene moved closer to Sidona, making her feel more uncomfortable. "Oh, you look so cute when you worry. I will give you all the resources you need to deal with the House of Crows plot against me. That bitch, Vivian de Jennette, she fled to her estate in Val Chevin after the party. I had loyal Chevalier brought back here for questioning." Celene stroked Sidona's check in a seductive way, clearly this shemlen Empress wanted to _play _with her new advisor. Sidona moved the Empress' hand away from her check.

"Did she say anything?" Sidona asked, she took a step back from Celene keeping her composure. Celene scowled at her, Sidona could barely tell with the amount of white powder on the Empress face. The woman sure did love to powder her face and body, it made her look flawless.

"She did, but I'm not telling you yet." Celene was teasing her, clearly the gloves had come off.

"Your Imperial Majesty! I don't even like male Shem in that way, I don't like Shems in that way regardless of gender. No offense." Sidona had to say something. Celene was too much and Sidona had little experience in dealing with situations like these. All she knew how to do was speak her mind and hopefully Celene would back down. But Celene was no ordinary woman, she was Empress of Orlais.

"Oh, pity." Celene pouted and turned away.

Sidona placed her hand on Celene's shoulder, she felt like she upset her. "I'm sorry, your—"

Before Sidona could finish her sentence Celene kissed her. Sidona felt the powder from Celene's skin rub onto her skin. Sidona pushed the Empress away and immediately bowed before her. Her heart was beating so fast in her chest, from shock not from the kiss, Sidona did not feel anything from the kiss. She was shocked that she _shoved _her Imperial Majesty away, denied her. Maker this could not well.

Celene wiped her mouth and sat on the edge of her desk. "Well, you're harder to break. All my over lovers broke when I kissed them." Celene said, her voice was seductive trying to draw her in. But she was immune it. Sidona did not care for Celene in that way, she cared for her as—well as her Empress. Sidona had heard rumours of Celene's bisexuality but no one paid too much attention to the rumour. Now she wished she did.

"So, you want me to be your lover?" Sidona asked, wearily.

"_Wanted, _now I'm not so sure anymore. You're not like the others. You still hate humans. Ah well it can't be helped. Vivian is in the dungeons you can go see her if you want." Celene let out a sigh of defeat.

"Sorry, your majesty." Sidona said as she stood up and turned to face the door.

Celene let out a playful smile towards Sidona. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

* * *

**IMPERIAL COURT DUNGEONS**

The dungeons underneath the Imperial Court were nowhere near as clean as the White Spire's. It was so… un-Orlesian. Which was strange for Sidona to see, it felt like she was in a foreign country. Chevalier's guarded the entrance and two guarded the cell door of each individual cell that was occupied. A total of six were there guarding the cells, each of them were leaning on specially decorated spires. Sidona saw the two Chevalier's guarding Vivian they were asleep, she could hear them snore lightly. The other Chevalier's didn't seem to mind it was a boring posting for them of course.

Sidona thought it was strange that Chevalier's were guarding the dungeons. Shouldn't they be out—well Sidona didn't know what else Chevalier's did. She began to feel the awake Chevalier's eyes on her, watching her like she was some dangerous criminal. She was use to the stares, they were similar to how the Templar's in the White Spire stared at her. Though she didn't like it she ignored them and continued to Vivian's cell. Celene placed Vivian in the deepest part of the dungeons, former inmates, who survived their time down there became mad. One Grand Duke from times past said. "Leaving one alone with one's mind is a horrific punishment that man can inflict upon his fellow man." It was true.

Solitary confinement for long periods of time would destroy the mind, unless the person confined is visited regularly. Sidona once study the effects on the mind, she read a book by Brother Matthews. He measured the amount of time that a person would need to spend in solitary confinement before they went mad it was seven to eight weeks. Brother Matthews also allowed on prisoner to have a visitor now and again. That prisoner did not go mad. This was all he gained when studying prisoners sent to the _Hole_ as the Orlesians like to call it.

His other work in different prisons showed little difference in a person's mental state apart from other treatable symptoms. Sidona believed that Vivian was a bit unstable to begin with, when she saw her with that Antivan woman, she sounded mad.

The entrance to the Hole was not even a door, it was a collapsed section of a wall that lead into a dark cave area barred up with a heavy cell door not even on hinges. There was a woman standing next to the gate. She was wearing fine black steel plate armour with the Orlesian heraldry on the breastplate. She held her hair down it was blonde and the light from the fire next to her made it look like it was shining. She glanced at Sidona and stood up and bowed before Sidona. She felt strange when this Shem woman bent her knee to her. Did the Shem realize that she was bending the knee to an elf?

"Her Imperial Majesty informed me that you were on your way to speak to prisoner." The woman stood up, and moved towards the bars.

"So, I take it you are to open the gate for me?" Sidona sarcastically asked.

"That obvious my lady?" The woman retorted. The woman easily shoved aside the cell door, the screech of metal on rock echoed loudly throughout the cave and the dungeon. Sidona covered her pointy ears the noise affected her more than most. Her sensitive hearing made the sound seem louder than it was and even with her ears covered she could still hear it.

"Did that annoy you _my lady?_" The woman was obviously not happy with Sidona, despite her words.

"What is your name?" Sidona asked, recovering from the noise.

"I am a Dame. Ser Abella de Launcet, if it pleases your, my lady." Abella replied courteously. "The woman is down there, should be easy to find her. Take this lantern."

"My Thanks." Sidona took the lantern and quickly made her way into the cave. It didn't take her long to find Vivian curled up in a ball on the floor. Vivian's clothes were torn and dirty, by the looks of her she had been here for five weeks. Sidona was amazed that she was captured so quickly, Celene was efficient indeed. But, why hadn't her fellow conspirators killed her or attempted to rescue her? Sidona began to feel uneasy and cast a protective ward behind her.

"Silly mage, that won't work here. This room was built to resist magic." Vivian let out a croak, her voice didn't seem like it was used in a long time. She was right the spell didn't cast. Vivian got up and looked blankly at Sidona, her lips were in tatters bitten repeatedly. "You're really real?" Vivian stated this time shocked.

"Of course, you warned me just before." Sidona took a step towards her, wary or her surroundings. She brought the light of the lantern to Vivan's face.

"Oh, oh, oh you're that mage… the elven lass, the one that Linea wants… Did the _Dame _let you in or the guard?" Vivian chuckled.

Sidona realized instantly she was tricked, she quickly turned around and was hit in the face with a gloved fist. She feel to ground the lantern's glass smashed and the candle flame went out, she could feel her conscious begin to fade.

"You took your time… you… have… What about her?" Vivian said, she couldn't make out most of the conversation.

"Take her to Fereldan… The Grand Master has a plan for this Grey Warden. Orlais is a lost cause now thanks to her. The Empress is too well guarded and _you_ gave up the others. Celene will kill them now." A woman said, she sounded like Abella, if that was her actually name.

Sidona felt her consciousness coming back, she opened her eyes and witnessed Abella stabbing Vivian repeatedly in the stomach. Sidona played dead until Abella got closer to her. "Your worth something to the Grand Master. Can't imagine why." Abella reached down towards her, Sidona stuck and did a sweeping kick, knocking Abella to the ground. Sidona got up and ran for the cave's entrance. She cursed her carelessness, the Crows had infiltrated the dungeons and those Chevalier's were obviously not Chevalier's. The Empire would be disgraced if word that the Crows could easily infiltrate the Empire. Sidona past the cell door leading into the Hole. She used a spell to cast a ball of fire in her hand to see her surroundings. At least she could cast a spell now.

Sidona used her telekinetic spell to push the cell door over the entrance to the Hole. The echo of clanking swords and armour alerted her to the incoming "Chevalier's" there was now where to hide…but up Sidona, even with her small fireball could not see the roof of the dungeon. Using the telekinetic spell on herself, levitated to the dark roof of the dungeon. Hidden in the darkness she watched as the so-called Chevalier's stormed towards the Hole's entrance. The moved the cell door and poured in.

Sure that no others were lurking about, Sidona levitated back down. "Never doing that again." She mutter to herself.

Her hopes were over when she made it out the dungeon and into the open area of the Courtyard. The dungeons entrance was in plain sight of the courtyard, but it looked so fancy that no one would know it was a dungeon until they paid a visit there. There was a woman and a company of solders behind her. The woman was masked in a pure white mask made by an Orlesian craftsmen. Archers tracked their arrows on her. One wrong move and she would be pinned to the ground before she could cast a minor spell.

"Give up. You are outnumbered." The woman had a thick Orlesian accent. She was a bard, possible hired to help the Crows against her. A noble was helping them or enlisting their services? The matter was getting confused in Sidona's mind. Sidona raised her hands in surrender.

"Grand Duke, Gaspard de Chalons, hands you over to the Crows. You cannot aid the Empress anymore. You might…interfere with his future plans as you already have interfered with one of his plans already." The masked woman announced in typical over-the-top Orlesian fashion. But Gaspard de Chalons. Sidona couldn't remember ever interfering with anything of his. Unless her presence in the court "interfered" with his plans.

"What will the Crows do to me?" Sidona asked.

"Whatever they want. You are no longer Orlais concern." The woman replied.

Abella came out of the dungeons with the "Chevalier's" and re-joined the soldiers behind the woman. She was an Antivan Crow after all.

The woman in the white mask made her way to Sidona. She was wearing boiled leather armour, embroiled with fine patterns. Though it was brown it was nice and pleasant to look at.

_The white clashes with the brown._ _Oh Maker. Did I just think that? I'm becoming more Orlesian by the day._ Sidona thought. The thought lighted her mood for a bit. Two men approach and restrain Sidona, as the white masked woman stands in front of her.

"The Grand Duke will make sure that the Templars know you are a blood mage and an apostate. The Grey Warden's will hunt you as will the Templars. You are now property of the House of Crows." The woman announced.

"Lies, the Wardens won't believe this Grand Duke's lies. And the Templars can go fuck themselves." Sidona yelled.

The masked woman turned away and someone struck the back of Sidona's neck. She fell unconscious.

* * *

**UNKNOWN LOCATION, FOUR MONTH LATER…**

Sidona was kept captive by the House of Crows, Linea. The Antivan who murdered the First Chancellor back in Orlais, kept her company throughout the months. Keeping her apprised of the latest news of the Blight and of the latest news in Orlais. Sidona couldn't do anything but stay silent and store her magically energies. Her magic was being suppressed by the cuffs again, but they were a weaker version of the ones the Templars used. It was still difficult to gather the energy but she was storing it, undetected.

Linea had informed her much of the Blight and how it will consume Fereldan in the weeks to come. A Landsmeet was called to stop the Civil War that Loghain had started in order to "save" the country from an imaginary attack from the Orlesian Empire. Sidona was shocked that the Hero of River Dane was so scared of Orlais, that he'd ignore the darkspawn threat. Linea mentioned now other surviving Grey Wardens, which made Sidona's heart sink. The Blight could not be stopped now then. The Orlesian Wardens would be tied down with politics to properly fight the darkspawn and the Chantry would attempt to defeat it on its own and if it did defeat the Blight it would establish some sort of religious state where Fereldan once stood in a twisted honour to Andraste.

The news from Orlais were grim in its own way. Celene had given up the search for Sidona and the Wardens apparently denounced Sidona for aiding the conspirators. The Templars were fed false information about Sidona's blood magic and began a hunt for her. The Crows destroyed her phylactery and made it look like she controlled a few Templars with blood magic, further discrediting her. Sidona kept her fears and her true emotions suppressed, not wanting to show her enemies any weakness. At times she felt foolish for believing most of the things Linea had told her. Linea had informed her that they were leaving Antiva, Linea did not say where. That was before Linea had a bald male mage strengthen the shackles anti-magic properties. Sidona lost her only chance of escape. She was disheartened by this but not put off.

Weeks past, Sidona was packed into a box and shipped like cargo overseas. She was left alone for days, Linea had not come to inform her of any recent developments. She didn't care, Sidona had been plotting for a way to escape. When they arrived at their destination Sidona's box was taken somewhere and placed down.

"Leave her here. I will scout out the city for signs of this _Warden _and the traitor. Join up with the Grand Master's forces on the outskirts of Dragon's Peak near the Drakon River!" Linea shouted to her men. They marched away from the box, but Linea stayed behind with the mage. "Cast that spell. I don't want her shouts to be heard or her taint to be sensed."

"Of course, Linea."

Sidona cursed at Linea under the cloth that kept her mouth shut. The woman was cautious and rightly so.

Sidona was left with her own thoughts for the rest of the day. Until night time came, she closed her eyes to try to rest but she could not get comfortable. Then someone opened the door, breaking the spell, she could sense the taint in this person, but it was strange to her. It was and was not like the taint inside the Grey Wardens she knew in Orlais. Darkspawn? No, darkspawn would feel differently. She slowly opened her eyes letting herself get us to the light. When she saw a human male wearing Grey Warden armour, she was relieved. He moved towards her and ungagged her. She took deep breaths, drinking in fresh air.

"Who are you? A Grey Warden from Orlais?" The male Grey Warden asked.

"My name is Sidona Andras. And yes I am an Orlesian Grey Warden." She replied putting much sass into her words as she could.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

**PRESENT TIME**

**DENERIM DOCK, FERLEDAN**

"Sidona Andras. Nice name. I am Tomas Cousland, soon-to-be Warden Commander of Fereldan." He helped Sidona up, he could tell she had a hard time. This elven woman was beautiful, the specs of dirt couldn't hide it. He found himself staring longer than he had wanted. Sidona did not notice, she was concerned about standing without losing balance. Linea had led him to this woman. She didn't seem to be helping them, she must know something about the Crows plot.

"Thanks, it's nice to see another Warden. It's been, well months I think. So where in Fereldan?" She paused for a moment assessing her surroundings as Tomas led her out of the box that was her "home" for months. "Have you heard anything from the Orlesian Wardens about me?" She asked, dropping behind him, wary of him, as if he was an enemy.

"They never once mentioned you. When they arrived after the Blight, they had all sorts of questions for me. They never mentioned a captured Grey Warden." Tomas said, he was being truthful. All the Orlesian Wardens did when arriving in Denerim after the Blight was probe Tomas for answers. Sidona could tell that this Shem wasn't lying, she found herself trusting his word completely which surprised her. She was away from the Wardens along time, she always trusted the other Wardens. He wasn't different. Was he?

"So the Blight is over? Who struck the final blow? Did a Senior Warden strike the blow? Did Riordan rally the natives of Fereldan?" Sidona needed to know, Riordan had not be heard from since he ventured into Fereldan half a year ago. Many in the Wardens believed he was killed by nobles loyal to Loghain. Sidona hadn't given up hope. She believed in Riordan.

Tomas turned away from Sidona, remembering the moment in which Riordan died. The elven alienage had been secured, the battle left the city elves scattered and what little culture they had left was up in flames. The vhenadahl tree was burning in the backgrounds, cracking and hissing Tomas was approached by a female elf, clad in studded leather armour.

"Riordan sent me. He says to tell you he will meet you in the Palace District." The elf said.

"Thank you. What is your name?" Tomas was curious, this elf didn't seem like a typical elven messenger.

The elf's eyes shifted around, unsure on what to tell him. She opened her mouth. "Kallian Tabris. Riordan freed me from Arl Howe's dungeons when he escaped. He wanted me to join the Warden's but I escaped back to the Alienage. He came back with a group of soldiers and broke through the first line of darkspawn towards the palace district."

Satisfied with the answer and the safety of the alienage Tomas, Alastair, Leliana, Sten and Wynne made their way out of the alienage towards the palace district. Tomas and Alastair sensed Riordan fighting a group of darkspawn atop a watch tower. Before either of them could voice a command to nearby soldiers to back up the Senior Warden, Tomas sensed the last of the darkspawn attacking Riordan die.

"Well, he can handle himself. Makes me feel… unwanted." Alistair joked. Tomas was also impressed at Riordan's skill.

The army's attack from the alienage pushed back the darkspawn briefly. But now the darkspawn were sending reinforcements from Fort Drakon. Tomas and Alastair led the charge against them. Riordan sensed the Archdemon approach the watch tower, it wanted to destroy it along with Riordan. Riordan leaped and landed on the creature. The Archdemon tried to get the Senior Warden off it, but Riordan was stubborn. Smashing into another tower Riordan moved and stabbed his sword into the creature's wing. A bad move. The Archdemon flew up, and Riordan's blade sliced the beast's wing clean open, with nothing more to hold on to, Riordan fell. Tomas and Alistair saw his body fall.

A day after the battle Riordan's body was found, his body crushed from the impact.

"So… he's dead…" Sidona said softly.

"I'm sorry." Tomas gave her some space. "After Riordan's death King Alistair and I stormed Fort Drakon with our allies to end the Archdemon.

"How are you alive? If this Alistair is the King, then that means that you killed the Archdemon." She caught on quickly. It helped that she had extensive knowledge of the Grey Wardens. The Orlesian Warden's told her the fate of Grey Warden who kill an Archdemon after she took her Joining. Though she wish they hadn't told her.

Tomas looked away from her, unsure how to answer a question that, he himself didn't know. "I don't really know myself."

Sidona seemed to accept that answer, though she knew that it didn't have any bearing on the current situation which both of them have found themselves in. The Crows Conspiracy.

"So want to tell me why you were in that box? And what connection do you have with an Antivan Crow called Linea?" Tomas politely asked.

"Obviously I was her prisoner. One of Empress Celene's nobles betrayed her and captured me and handed me over to the Crows." She quickly answered.

Tomas could tell she was intentionally leaving bits out, important bits. Possibly something to do with Orlesian politics. And that meant a lot of complications, fancy parties with masks and stinky cheeses. Nothing was ever simple with Orlesian's. Tomas did not want to know… yet, but he got the feeling that somehow Sidona's secrets could potentially blow up in his face. Especially if those secrets could weaken the Empress' position. The Empress herself has supported Fereldan after the Blight, which has made a lot of nobles, both in and outside of Fereldan unhappy. If Celene lost the throne now many nobles in Orlais would rally together like minded nobles and invade Fereldan again.

"So, what now?" Sidona asked, the warehouse was still. The harbor master did not return. Not a good sign.

"First, we get out of this warehouse and find Zevran, he's an ally. He was chasing a Crow assassin." Tomas replied. "Once we find him, we can discuss what you know about the Crows plot against Fereldan."

"Of course. By the way. I'm a mage."

* * *

Nearly out of breath Zevran stumbled through the still broken wooden gates of the elven alienage. Sixty-Six was faster than he had anticipated. But Zevran had tracked him as would any master assassin would have. Sixty-Six's tracks led into the alienage and then…disappeared? Zevran caught his breath before looking for more tracks. Before he could he took in the sights of still recovering alienage. It was _still _undergoing repairs. He had saw the alienage after the battle, and it still looked like it did back then a month ago. Snapping his mind back into the present, he found Sixty-Six's tracks. They were mixed in with armored boots and fine noble ones. It seemed as though a noble had taken the elf.

"Look over there. This knife ears has the same mark as that other one." A high pitched voice called out.

"Yeah, wonder if they are in cahoots or somethin'." A dull voice replied.

Zevran turned around to see a young man dressed in fine clothing and a taller man in full chainmail, sword in hand. _Looks like leftovers from whoever took Sixty-Six. Wonderful, _Zevran thought to himself. Without a second thought Zevran reached for the dagger on his back, only to his surprise, two men grabbed his arms.

"Tsk, tsk. Naughty knife ears. You're not supposed to raise up arms against your betters. Who taught you to be so disrespectful?" the young man began. "That other elf… didn't die. You will tell me why."

"Is that a question or a demand? I couldn't tell with that 'voice' you have." He knew he had to keep his mouth shut, but he was always slow to learn.

The young man struck him in the face. It was less of a punch and more like a girlish slap.

"Oww that hurt. Please don't beat me again, master I've learnt my lesson." Zevran mockingly said, causing one of the men holding him to laugh.

"Silence! Kill this fucking elf!"

As the man with the sword approached Zevran to deal the killing blow, he fell to the ground with a dagger in his back. Using the opportunity Zevran knocked back the two men holding him and swiftly took out both his daggers and slit the men's throats. Blood droplets stained Zevran's face, he turned to the noble who as being held at knife point by a female elf.

"You shemlen threatening us again. As you can see we are not so helpless. I've killed your kind before you fucker." The woman put much venom in her words.

The noble's eyes fluttered in fear. "You can't kill me!" He tearfully yelled. "I'm highborn! HIGHBORN!"

The female elf, lowered her dagger, the noble sniffed and rubbed his eyes before running away sobbing loudly. Zevran approached the woman while wiping the blood off his face.

"You let him go, why?" He asked.

The woman looked at her dagger and sighed. "He was a craven. Not like Vaughan. That bastard stood his ground…didn't back down even though…even though I cut him down." Zevran could tell she was in a bad memory.

"So, what's is the name of the beauty in front of me that saved my life?" He asked. The woman looked at him and gave him a weary smile.

"Kallian Tabris. I use to live here. Before Vaughan… ruined everything."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." Zevran gently grabbed her hand and kissed it.

"Okay. So want to tell me why you are here?" Kallian asked, retracting her hand quickly away from Zevran.

Zevran didn't want to tell her, but she might have overheard the men talking about Sixty-Six… or saw it happen.

"Tracking an assassin. You seem to one. You might be the one I'm looking for sweet Kallian."

She slapped him.

"I'm no assassin!" She yelled.

He rubbed his cheek, it was sore and red impressive most women who slapped him would have had to slap him again to leave a mark. But this girl, was stronger than most women. Zevran studied her from heel to head. She was muscular, not too muscular, just enough to still retain her female body. Her hair was brown, tied up into a ponytail. The armour she wore had seen many battles, it was worn down with cuts and there were patches where the ware was most prominent.

"Clearly by your attire." Zevran began, carefully. "I didn't mean to offend you."

She slapped him again.

"I forgive you." She said.

"You have a strange way of forgiving people." Zevran said, while rubbing his jaw. He had to appreciate this strong woman. She was different than most women he had met, but she was completely different. And it made him feel something that he hadn't felt for a long, long time.

She turned and began to shift through the belongings of the two dead men. If Zevran had to guess they were mercs hired by that wimpy nobleman to guard him and to rough up the elves if he was in the mood. By the looks of thing Kallian was looking for the coin on him.

"You know their weapons and armour fetch a good price. I know a nice well around here where we can dump the bodies and no one would find them." Zevran suggested.

Kallian glowered at him. "The well with all the dead bodies in? Everyone and their mother knows about that place. A lot of shady types always dump large human shaped bags down there. That's where your pal ended up… that was before he climbed back up. He took a dagger to the heart and lived!"

Zevran did his best to look shocked, but after having seen him again after he killed him the first time the shock wore off. "Yes, well. I need to find him. What happened to him after that?"

Kallian stood up holding three coin purses, with a smile on her face, before she processed the question. "That bastard, Rendell took him and two other elves. He's been plaguing the elves ever since the end of the Blight. The King's men are stretched too thin and the Bann's are hording what troops are left to defend their lands from bandits and darkspawn straggler raids, so the defense of the elves have been left out. We have to fend for ourselves."

"And so you took up the vigilante role of looking after the elves while the humans rebuild. How noble of you." Zevran said with an appreciative smile.

"Someone had to. It might as well be me… I've killed shems before who harm us." Kallian seemed sad as she said that, as if the memory always haunted her. _What did you do? What happened to you?, _he thought.

Kallian looked around and a skinny male elf approached her.

"Good, you're here." She said to the elf, throwing him a sovereign. "Get your men to get rid of the bodies." The elf nodded and left.

There was a silence for a while, the midnight breeze came and went leaving its chilling mark on both of them. The silence was broken by the arrival of several elves who took the bodies quickly and without incident. Zevran was reminded of the Antivan Crows sub-sect that cleaned up after assassinations to make sure any evidence of foul play was involved, he was impressed. He hadn't seen anything like this in all his time in Fereldan.

"Do you know where this Kendell lives?" Zevran asked.

Kallian placed her dagger back in its scabbard on her waist. "Yes, I do. He has an estate in the capital. Heavily guarded." She replied.

"Well, that doesn't matter. I have a friend who can help us on that front the trouble is I need to find him."

"The Hero of Fereldan?" A male voice called out. Kallian and Zevran turned around to see Tomas Cousland with a female elf.

"Ah, you found me. Good, we need to talk about Sixty-Six."


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry for the wait. The next chapter will be up on Wednesday.**

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CHAPTER TEN

Tomas told Zevran and his female companion of how he and Sidona met. After he was done Zevran told him about Sixty-Six's capture by a noble lordly named Rendell. The conversations took place inside Kallian's father's home, who was more than happy to have the Hero of Fereldan stay for lunch at his humble home. Soris, Kallian's cousin served them food and drink and at every chance he got, eyed up Sidona. Which annoyed her visibly, but Soris didn't seem to catch on. "Tell me about this Rendell. What has he got against elves?" Tomas asked.

Cyrion stopped eating and let out a large sigh. "I don't know why he has it in for us elves. Maybe he's like that Vaughan Kendall, takes sick pleasure in harming us. He started four weeks after the Battle of Denerim, when elven labour was most needed to rebuild parts of the city. His mercenaries started going on about 'humans should rebuild a human city, not elves' and other racist comments. The king's men managed to drive them away from the construction areas but, that didn't stop them from preying on us in the alienage." Cyrion took a sip of his water and swallowed hard. Then before he could speak Shianni burst into the house. Tomas last saw Shianni in court three days ago, she was made the first elven bann after the Battle of Denerim. A decision that didn't go down very well with a majority of the Bannorn. She was clearly enraged, she didn't even register guests in Cyrions home.

"Fucking bann Tyron and his… Maker!" Shianni gasped. Realizing that her uncle Cyrion was not alone. "What are you doing here? Not a social call I take it." Tomas turned to Kallian and returned his gaze to Shianni. "That obvious? Were here discussing the troubles in the alienage."

Shianni looked at Cyrion and Kallian, both of them shock their heads. Tomas sensed a rant approach. When they met during the alienage crisis, she was running her mouth about the Tevinter and the plague trying to convince her fellow elves of the lies and inconstancies told to them by the Tevinter Imperium.

"Now our problems matter to you? I've pleaded for help from the King for weeks. Now you show up… let me guess something has come up and you need our help, you are doing this to get on our good side so we will help you? Or did your elven lover ask you to help us?" Shianni ranted, pointing at Sidona.

Kallian stood up and placed her arm in front of Sidona, who was about to stand up. "Calm down cousin, it doesn't matter why he wants to help us now. What matters is that he is helping us now. Shems are slow to action." Shianni had been through so much and endure every indecency that humans can inflict on elven kind. She was raped by Vaughan Kendall before the Battle of Ostagar which forced her cousin to kill Vaughan and his entourage. And now as a bann, she deals with bigotry and an over familiar lordling with a fetish for elven women. Kallian was surprised she lasted a month without asking her to kill one of them. Tomas respected her and there were times that he had to step in to insure that there was no incidents between the two races. There was truth in her words, though Alistair wants to build a stronger relationship with the elves they had still have been neglected. Politics ruin the best intentions. The reason Alistair made Shianni a bann was to aid the elves in rebuilding the alienage. But the other nobles hinder her every chance they get.

"Okay, okay. Sorry. It's just been so hard to keep the community together. We elves never had it easy before the Blight, but now it's too much to bear. I'm trying my best … Maker. If you can stop this Rendell that would help lift the spirits making Valendrians task easier."

Sidona quickly shot up. "Of course we will help you. This shem will pay for what he has done." Kallian nodded in agreement followed by Zevran. Tomas looked around he was the sole human there, he was outnumbered. But he didn't need to be convinced the help, he was going to help regardless. Sixty-Six's capture was just more motivation for the deed. Sidona knew it as well as Zevran.

"Okay it's agreed. Kallian, you know where this Rendell holds up?" Tomas asked.

"Aye. He's got an estate. It was one of the luckier ones that was destroyed by the darkspawn. I can take you there now." Kallian was enthused that she forgotten about the meal that her father prepared for her.

"Good. We will go there now while it is still dark and strike the bastard were he sleeps." Sidona added.

_After this you will tell me what you know about the Crows_, Tomas thought.

It took an hour to get ready as Sidona insisted, quite verbally, that she needed a staff to better focus her spells. After finding a shady individual who sold magic items to apostates everyone was ready to make the trip to Rendell's estate. On the walk through the streets and back alleys, Zevran tried his best to charm Kallian. The young elf seemed to have charmed Zevran in some way. Kallian had none of it. She wasn't interest in him in that way, so far as Tomas could tell. Sidona on the other hand was smiling every time Zevran tried a line. He couldn't tell if she was taking enjoyment out of Zevran being shot down every time or she was enjoying the company of elves.

"Enjoying the banter?" Tomas asked. The question jerked Sidona back to reality. "Sorry," She put on a sad smile. ", just remembering some friends I've missed." Tomas did not want to pry further, her past was her past, just as his past was his. Kallian matched pace with Tomas and Sidona. Sidona cast her gaze on the young elf, Tomas did not notice an age difference between them and so believed the two were of the same age. Two young looking elves in the company of a hero and former assassin, it was like a bad tale. Kallian eyed Tomas with wonder.

"So, where is your great sword the bards sing about? Zevran doesn't even know what happened to it. Was there even a great sword?" Her question came out of nowhere. A question that only he knew the answer to as Zevran was not there when he struck the killing blow to the Archdemon.

"Ageless, that was its name." Tomas replied solemnly. The sword had been with him for a long time, a dwarven Warden gave it to him after the Battle of Ostagar. The dwarf was one the only Warden, apart from Alistair and himself, to survive the battle. However, Teyrn Loghain's men found him and shoved a spike into his back. The stubborn dwarf held to his life for three days before dying in Tomas arms.

"Was? What happened to it?"

"The Archdemon happened. When it… died it unleashed a burst of energy and… well the sword couldn't handle it and it broke into four pieces. Master Wade and the best dwarven smith in Denerim could not repair it so the pieces were melted down and make into a dagger and a sword." All weapons that were used the kill an Archdemon get destroyed Tomas was told by Orlesian Warden-Commander. Even recorded death of an Archdemon stated that, along with the Grey Warden, the weapon that the Warden used the strike the death blow was destroyed as well. Some Wardens believe that it is a symbol meant to represent the death of the Warden. Tomas believed differently. As he said it was the Archdemons energy that destroyed the blade. Tomas missed the blade, he spent half a year using it now he was using his family's sword. He used the blade only once, and that was to cut Rendon Howes head off. He offered to return the blade but Fergus declined, saying that it was of the past, a past too painful to remember.

"Such a shame. I was looking forward to seeing you wield it." Disappointment was on Kallian words, even though she was shown to be a bit racist towards humans, Tomas knew she wasn't completely racist towards his kind by the fact she was infatuated by the story the bards sing about him. Damn Leliana and her song. It was Leliana that wrote the song, sung it and gave it away to other bards, who know sing the song across Thedas.

It was another hour before the arrived at Rendell's estate. Tomas thought it was odd for a bastard to have an estate, but in these times it wasn't so odd. Oghren, was given a small estate for his contributions in the Battle of Denerim. The dwarf moved in with his lover Felsi, Oghren took up a position within the army and from what he had last heard of the dwarf, was doing very well for himself.

"This doesn't look much like and estate." Sidona spoke out loud.

"Disappointed? Not Orlesian enough for you?" Zevran jested.

Sidona flushed with anger. "I-I just mean it doesn't look very… noble."

"That's because it is of Fereldan design. All the old Orlesian buildings were destroyed after Maric and Loghain kicked the Empire out." Tomas injected. It surprised Tomas at how little Sidona knew of Fereldan. Did the Orlesian Wardens never teach her about other lands? There was a Blight in Fereldan after all. Did she know of Fereldan but not of the architecture? It was possible.

"Well enough about design. Zevran, Kallian you two sneak in through the back. I have a feeling that my 'chat' with Rendell is going to go south so I need both of you to back us up." With that said Kallian and Zevran started a light sprint, it would take some time to get around the back of the estate but he knew both of them would make it.

"So were going through the front door? We shoul-" Tomas held up his hand to silence her. "Trust me on this. We don't want to go making trouble unless were are in trouble." He said, sounding reassuring.

Sidona blushed lightly. From embarrassment or infatuation?

The gates were wide open two men guarding the door. Mercenaries, The Crimson Oars a large group that expanded during the Blight. Mainly made up from veterans of battles large and small, loyal only to coin and beer, and the occasional whore. Their flag was a crimson oar atop of a round shield, hence the name. They were a loud lot when they weren't selling their services getting drunk and causing bar fights. An easy lot to outsmart and fight, Tomas thought, Sidona seemed to think that as well just by one look. One of the guards spotted them and approached.

"You. Leave. Now. You're not welcome one these lands." He bellowed.

"I'm the Hero of Fereldan and advisor to the King. I wish to speak to Rendell." Tomas said in his commanding voice. The guard was unsure what to do. He looked to his friend who shrugged at him. "All right." He began. "Follow me." The estate was in disrepair. Fair to say most of the coin from Rendell went to pay for the Crimson Oars services. Cob webs were in the corners, everything looked like it was twenty-five years old or more. The guard led them into a hall that was empty of furnishing seven men were on the balcony above all holding crossbows, a fire was burning in the large fireplace and two men were standing over an elven male. The older man was holding on to a black steel staff, a light was glowing atop it.

_Sixty-Six, what have they done?_ He thought.

Sidona leaned towards Tomas and whispered. "That man was in Orlais and on the boat that I was transported in. But his magic aura is gone."

"The curse? It may have something to do with that man with the staff."

The younger man turned around and showed visible disgust. "You dare bring that…thing in my presence. How dare you-"

"I am the Hero of Fereldan. I bring who I want with me. You have a lot of explaining to do Rendell."

"Y-you! Hero you may be but you will not bring a filthy elf into my HOME!" Rendell's shout echoed throughout the empty hall.

"I'm cleaner than you shemlen!" Sidona yelled back at him.

"YOU DARE RAISE YOUR VOICE AGAINST ME?!"

This was bad. Rendell reacted far worse at the presence of an elf than Tomas had first thought. The rage poured from his face. It was clear one more insult would end in bloodshed. But he noticed Zevran and Kallian behind the seven men on the balcony. They might make it out alive.

"You're just a racist! You will never lay a hand on my people again!" With that said, Sidona unleash a flurry of flames from the tip of her staff and it set the old man with the staff ablaze. Tomas got to his shield and jumped in front of Sidona and blocked the first three crossbow bolts from hitting Sidona. Kallian and Zevran made quick work of the other men.

"You're fast." Sidona was amazed at Tomas reflexes.

"You too. I've never seen a mage cast a spell as fast as you did." He replied equally impressed.

The talk was interrupted as Rendell charged at them with a knife. Such a fool. With one simple side step and a blow with the pommel of his blade Rendell fell to the floor. More guards filled the room but didn't attack.

"Time to find another customer. This one is under arrest to face the King's Justice." The words sank in to the men who sheathed their blade they grumbled and complained as they left the hall.

"That was over too quickly. I miss the good old days." Zevran yelled down at him. "When can we have a better fight?"

"When we face the Crows head on." Tomas replied.

"That will be a problem." Sidona said looking at the body of Sixty-Six. "He is dead."


	11. Chapter 11

**The chapter is out early though it is short. It is there to step up a longer chapter with a big revelation. **

**I've been finding it hard to keep motivated writing Dragon Age. I've written another fan fiction (have yet to publish it on this site) I feel like that fan fiction is superior to Aftershock and so I found myself less motivated to continue writing Aftershock. Reviews on how to improve Aftershock will help me a lot. So please drop a review.**

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

"Dead? How? He had a curse on him." Zevran's words echoed across the empty hall.

Sidona waved her hand across Sixty-Six's corpse and let out a large sigh. "The curse was lifted and not by the one who casted it in the first place. It was forcibly removed with blood magic." The old man. He must have. Now there was no way to learn of the Crows location. Tomas kicked a nearby chair away in frustration. Sidona didn't flinch nor did Zevran and Kallian.

"No need to lose your temper my friend. We will find them and save the kingdom in the nick of time." Zevran put on a smile and glared at Sidona.

Sidona, she knew more than she was letting on. If the Crows took her prisoner for ruining their plans in Orlais then she would have overheard them talk about their plans. Why didn't she talk about them? Did she not care about Fereldan? Or was she working for them? A possibility and one that Tomas could no longer deny. It was time to call her on her lies.

"What do you know of the Crows Sidona? Don't lie. You know something. Something about where they have set up camp or their numbers. Tell me now."

Sidona took a step back. She had overheard them and she didn't want to tell them, why didn't she? She wanted to tell them but something…was stopping her. In her mind she was screaming _Dragon's Peak, west of Dragon's Peak. _Yet the words never came out. She couldn't understand it. It was killing her that she couldn't tell him. She began to cry, the tears streaming down her face has she tried to force her mouth to open and speak the words she so desperately wanted to say.

"What's going on? Sidona, are you alright." Tomas moved closer with care. Something was off he could see it in Sidona body language. The Crows must have done something to her. With magic or drugs or a combination. Tomas embraced her in his arms. He was gently as not to make her feel threatened. She embraced him back. She was trying her best to say where the Crows are. _West of Dragon's Peak, they are there with their Grand Master._ The words still did not come out. It was like a vice was keeping her mouth from saying anything about the Crows location.

"What's wrong with Sidona?" Kallian asked he face said it all she was worried and concerned.

"I have some idea, where is that mage Sidona set alight?" Tomas let go of Sidona and looked around the room. No burnt body. Did the mage survive and fled? Tomas idea was a simple one the mage was a Crow and was there when Sidona was captured. He must have performed some sort of spell on her during her captivity. "I think he ran into that room over there." Kallian said eventually.

_Hopefully he is still alive. _Kallian ran into the other room in hopes of finding the old mage.

Sidona sat on a nearby chair still trying to tell Tomas about the location of the Crows. Zevran kicked Rendell over and tied his hands and legs together. Sidona summoned all her will to open her mouth, but it didn't budge on bit. It was frustrating and painful knowing that she could help. She began to remember Jardukr and Narder. The dwarfs dirty smile and Narder's nervous reaction to alcohol. She hoped that the memories would give her the strength to speak.

"D-d-dragon's P-p-pea-" She stuttered.

"What? Dragon's Peak? Is that where they are?" Tomas asked.

Sidona tried to shack her head but it seemed even her movement was inhibited, whoever did this to here was thorough in the spell.

"He is not there." Yelled Kallian from the other room.

Tomas looked over his shoulder his brow furrowed. "Keep looking. He has to be here somewhere." He turned back to face Sidona. "Come on fight whatever it is keeping you from talking. You've done it before you can do it again."

His words encouraged her to keep fighting the edge to keep silent. She keep at it until he jaw felt like it was going to drop off. "W-west." She finally said.

"Well, it seems Grey Wardens are truly strong of will." An old voice said from behind Tomas. Tomas spun round and drew his sword. "You're the mage that Sidona burnt." Tomas said in amazement.

The old mage stood before him with little more that burnt robes. The man's expression said it all. He was angry. "I worked a long, long time preparing that spell. It should have made her unable to talk about anything that might give up the location of the Crows. Linea was too weak to truly follow through with the plan. I knew she'd use this elven bitch to lead the Fereldan army to the Crows once she saw an opportunity." The old mage spat. "Sixty-Six killed her but he too lost faith in the plan as well."

"So you spill your guts. Not a wise move when we outnumber you old man." Zevran said taking out his daggers, Kallian did the same. The old man chuckled. "Is something funny old man?" Zevran asked, slowly closing the gap between them. Tomas took a step forward and suddenly stopped when the man raised his hand.

"That's close enough hero. We don't want an incident to befall you." The man said, full of confidence.

"You should choose your threats more carefully."

"I chose them well enough. Now kindly stay were you are."

Tomas ignored him and took another step forward. Zevran and Kallian did the same, they were so close to him and yet he did not use a single spell. Why? He is a mage is he not? Then why no spells?

The moment Zevran went to grab the mage the old man raised his staff and the most intense pain entered Tomas body. He could see his allies suffer the same pain. It was like all the blood in his body suddenly jumped. Muscles would not move despite his best attempts. The Old mage moved his fingers about and Tomas body twisted in unnatural ways as if he were a puppet on string.

_Maker's Breath. Blood Magic. _

The old mage laughed as Tomas levitated of the ground. "This is the power of a _true _mage. You cannot deny my power!" He yelled. He obviously loved the sight of his own power. "Killing you now would be too easy. Killing your minds. That is another matter." He chuckled. "Give my regards to any spirit or demons you come across. The hunt begins!" He slammed his staff on the ground. The echoes grew louder and louder as if it were in Tomas ears. Everything began to go white and he felt himself leave his body. _Not the Fade again._


	12. Chapter 12

**I've decided to keep the big revelation for the next chapter, to have suspense. A special thanks to Mike3207 for his reviews.**

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CHAPTER TWELVE

The familiar humming of the Fade woke Sidona. The last thing she remembered was being held by the old man who used blood magic to keep her and her friends restrained. Deep within her mind she began to remember that he performed a spell on her when she was a Crow captive. It affected her mind and suppressed her memory of her time as a Crow captive. But now in the Fade she was free from the spells effect. The old mage was powerful, he brought four individuals including into the Fade. She had been separated from the other and was alone in the Fade. She could sense the spirits and demons, a demon was converging on her location, while the other seemed to be heading elsewhere. Her magic power should have attracted more of them like moths to a flame. The spirits remained in the same spot, unmoving and uninterested. Spirits were notorious for not going after humans in the Fade. They were said to be the Makers first children before he made humans.

Sidona took a step forward and the platform she was on elevated and connected to another floating platform. She stepped on to the new platform and looked to the horizon. The green sky of the Fade was always strange to see, even more so when platforms dotted the skyline. Each platform looked small from a distance but there was no mistake they were large if she were to go to one of them. And in the centre of the platforms was a Black City, former home of the Maker. The magisters from the ancient Tevinter Imperium invaded the Golden City and corrupted it with their greed and ambition or so the Chantry taught. The Chantry taught many things.

Sidona felt a sense of dread when she looked up at the Black City. She never used to get that feeling before she became a Grey Warden. It must be something to do with the Taint running through her veins now. The Fade was shifting. Platform's crumbled and crashed into each other. Sidona noticed a few demons flying past her in the form of dragons and other deformed winged animals.

_What's going on? _She thought.

Then she it hit her. The old mage, he said something about a hunt. Could be doing this? Could he be a dreamer? He did send them into the Fade without Lyrium, and he didn't use blood magic to do so. Talented dreamers could shape the Fade. That would explain why the demons were flying past her, ignoring her.

_I'd better get back together with the others, who knows what that man has in store for us._

She jumped off the platform and before she knew it she landed on a completely different platform nowhere near the platform she was previously on. The Fade was place of dreams, but ones will was real. This part of the Fade had dead trees, rotted and with no leaves. The ground was barren and smooth. A fire lit in the distance and spread faster than any fire that Sidona had seen. She sensed a demon approach the one she sensed coming towards her before. A female figure emerged from the fire, its body was completely on fire. Her forehead had large horns arcing outwards they too where aflame. It caressed its female form in delight.

"Ahhh, oh my. A mage. Lucky me." It said, its voice was dual though a female voice was prominent, Sidona could hear the male voice as a faint echo.

"Be gone demon. My business is not with you." Sidona snapped. She would not show the demon any weakness. She stood firm as if she was ready for anything the demon had in store for her.

"Such words. Such… power. Where does your business take you?" It asked in a mocking way. The demon waved its hands and the flames disappeared.

"Not here." Sidona said, keeping things short as to not give the demon any indication that she was forced here against her will. Letting any information slip would give the demon something to use against her and possible lure her into a trap. She would not be lead into a trap.

"Ah. Well then I won't stop you then. You mages love to enter the Fade, where is your destination? Mayhap we be heading in the same direction." It said, it wouldn't let things be would it.

"I wouldn't tell you that demon. Now leave my sights at once, I am not in the mood for your games."

"Pity. The game is fun and full of rewards for those who play. And…you know what becomes of those who don't play the game."

"They live and keep their minds. Those who play are lead astray corrupted my sweet promises of power and freedom. Your reward is enslavement not a fitting reward I like being free." Damn. She feel for the bait. It was so obvious. The demon was attempting to delay her. Damn it.

"Freedom? A mage knows nothing of freedom. You are bound to the same death all mages face. The sword. You and your kind are hunted down both in the world of the living and here in the world of dreams. You will never know the sweet release of freedom until you feel a sword in throat or taste our power."

Sidona grimaced, the demon smiled an evil, sick smile. It had won.

"Did I hit too close to home? Ha-ha. You belong to me know." It said, full of euphoria.

"I am not your demon. I am my own!" Sidona yelled. The demon frowned at this. Sidona smiled, _looks like I'm still in the game._

The demon laughed and the land changed. They stood in front of a ruined tower on fire. It looked Tevinter in origin, though it was the Fade, building and landscapes were taken from the dreams and memories of other. It was quite possible this tower exists—existed.

"This is the seat of my power. Can you feel it? My will courses through this place. You will submit to my will. I will see the outside world through your eyes." Its prominent female voice was replaced by that of its male's voice, the female voice echoed its words. Its form changed from that of a female to that of a male. It sat on a throne of pure fire. Two rage demons emerged from a portal of flames on the ground. They roared with rage. Sidona had seen many of them in the past, they didn't frighten her then, and they didn't now.

"A poor show demon. Is this all you could muster?" Sidona took her staff and placed it in front of her.

"Trying to place a spell? Or is this just for show? In the end you cannot best me. I've seen civilizations rise, fall and rise again. But in the end I live eternally." It said, calmly. The throne of flames it sat on changed colour, from orange flames to blue flames, its body also changed colour. The rage demons slivered towards Sidona obvious in their intent to seize her. From her staff a white light struck one of the demons and froze it in place. Then a stone fist formed and shattered the frozen demon.

"Simple mage tricks." It taunted.

"Simple, yet highly effective." Sidona said, smiling. The rage demon left standing retreated back to its master's side. The creature on the throne merely sat there its fiery fingers interlocked. It stared at Sidona full of mystery and wonder. It seemed content, for the time being.

"Very well then. I hope your business here is fruitful. And you find who you are looking for." It said disappearing in thick black smoke.

_Who I'm looking for? Damn it, it knows. This is going to difficult._

* * *

The air was crisp and smelled of leather, reminding Zevran of his time pack together with others his age in a whorehouse overlooking a shop selling freshly made leather. The smell grew stronger causing Zevran to awake. A woman was stirring a pot, the contents could not be smelled the stench of leather overpowered everything in the room. The woman turned round, Zevran had never seen her before but he felt as though he did. She was elvish, she smiled at him. It was a warming smile one that a mother would give a child.

"Moth-her?"

The woman nodded. "Yes dear child, the soup will be ready soon." Her voice warmed his heart, but it made his stomach sink.

"Where I'm I?" He asked the woman who was his mother.

"Home, your father found you asleep in the woods and brought you here. You seemed to have been on quite the adventure." As she spoke Zevran had flashes of times he knew never happened, and he felt content with this however like it all made sense. All his doubts began to wash away. All fears smoothed.

"Where is father?"

"Out cutting wood. As he always does." She kissed him on the forehead and smiled at him again. Zevran smiled back despite himself. _What is wrong with me, I'm not supposed to be here? Where is here? _ He found himself doubting again. The woman turned to the door. "Wait here Zev, I'm going to fetch more water." She said and left the room. The stench of leather was gone, Zevran didn't notice its absence. He looked out the window to see a forest, around the house were tree stumps littered about.

_This isn't Antiva City. I-I don't know this place. _The sky was clear and the sun was shining bright, it was a picture perfect day. But to Zevran it seemed as if his eyes were playing tricks on him. The sky was the sky, yet not the sky. He could not explain it. Just as he was about to sit back down and take in what was going on the ground began to shack violently. The walls of the house began to crack and crumble, without thinking Zevran ran out of the house and when he did the picture perfect world shattered around him.

A green sky greeted him, bones stretched out the ground curving to cut off his escape. He was surround by dead, rotting trees, the ground was cracked looking like it could shatter at any moment. Zevran realized that he was in the Fade and he cursed to himself for almost believing in the lies a demon spoon feed him.

"Looks like the disruptions are ruining our land. Please make it stop my love." A female voice said.

"Would if I could. Whatever is doing this has more power than me." A male voice replied.

Zevran spotted the hulking creature, it was as tall as an ogre, and more frightful. Its skin was rotting, its torso was covered in faces, each one displaying a more painful expression than the last. It had a mangled face with one red eye with slits, its mouth looked like it was torn off. Its eyes looked at Zevran, it flared with anger and its throat bulged. "This one has broken loose." It said in irritation.

A Desire Demon stepped out gracefully from behind the creature. Zevran had seen one of them before, he'd never forgotten how beautiful one was. Though the one he had encountered possessed a cat in order kill him.

"Oh, no." It exclaimed. "We must do something." It didn't sound very interested. As if something else interested it.

"Go then fool! You obviously want that strange power than arrived! As if I care what kills you!" The tall creature yelled, its voice seemed to vibrate.

"So long then Tamiel. Don't eat your meal too fast." The Desire Demon was engulfed in purpled flames, leaving nothing of her left.

Zevran took out a dagger and charged at the creature, leaping he managed to impale one of the faces on its chest. There was no blood from the wound and the creature called Tamiel didn't seem to be in pain. It looked at Zevran its red eye flared with anger.

"Ahem, this normally hurts you demons. I'll just take this out."

Zevran removed his dagger from the demon, the wound he had made faded with the face, leaving behind a smooth bit of flesh. It mumbled.

"You are not that interesting." The demon's throat bulged.

"So I can go then? Could you point me in the direction of my friends?"

The demon laughed. "Find them yourself. You have no magic power so you won't be able to find them by normal means." It turned and walked away, the bones that grew from the ground retreated back as he moved further away from Zevran.

_Thank the Maker I'm not a mage._

Zevran turned and walked in the opposite direction, unsure if he was going the right way. The Fade's landscape confused and frustrated him to no end. Just when he thought he had some baring on the land, it did a complete flip and changed the landscape. _The world of dreams. I can't wait to leave. Why mages voluntarily go into this cursed place is beyond me._

Zevran noticed smoke of into the distance. Could it be someone else or Kallian? Why was he thinking of Kallian all of a sudden? He ran towards the smoke, hoping that the land did not change into something completely different. When he arrived he was disappointed when all he found was a single camp fire with no one to keep the fire alight.

"Ah, this place is pissing me off." He cursed.

The fire danced on the wood, cracking and hissing. Zevran wondered if it was lit recently or was it _always_ burning. Anything was possible in the Fade. A place of spirits and demons, every shadow and enemy, the Fade made Zevran feel uneasy as if his very life could end at any moment on the whims of this ever changing place.

He did not envy the mages, who had to be put through gruelling test of will. Wynne had told him of the Harrowing, where a mage was sent into the Fade to face a demon and if he or she failed to resist the demon they were killed on the spot by the Templars. A terrible fate. Zevran, however, new a few young mages from Antiva who escaped from their Circle of Magi to escape the Harrowing. In Antiva nothing was a secret and it was especially true with the Harrowing.

Some Antivan mages were so scared from hearing about the Harrowing they attempted to escape the Circle some succeeded while other met there end at a Templar's blade. Just thinking about the injustice the mages face made Zevran annoyed. He knew what the mages were going through…sort of.

The fire suddenly died.

"You are one of the mortals who entered the Fade." A man clad in Heavy Plate Armour emerged from where the fire used to burn. His armour pulsed with blue veins, he wore a helm unlike any Zevran had seen. Was this a spirit or a demon? He couldn't tell.

"Don't be alarmed, I mean you no harm. I am a Spirit of Persistence. You…have overcome so much. I can see it on your face…and hear it on your soul."

Zevran paused, unsure how to respond to this…spirit. The spirit gestured him to sit down as a chair appeared from nowhere. The spirit turned and looked on to the horizon. Zevran still stood and walked towards him. The spirit did not notice him approach, Zevran could tell that something occupied his mind. Just like the demons from before.

"He calls." The spirit finally said. "He calls and his voice speaks the same words but something is different. He is angry." The spirit paused and looked at the Black City. "It's been so long. I had almost forgotten him, the words…the words…they…"

Zevran stretched out a hand to touch him and, phased through the spirit. The spirit seemed unsure of itself and looked around as if it was confused.

"Are you alright spirit?" Zevran backpedalled, hoping to distance himself enough encase the spirit became hostile.

"Yes…I'm fine. What brings you to the Fade mortal?" It asked.

Zevran wasn't sure exactly how he got here, was it that old mage. Must have been. "I not sure myself, all I know is that coming here was not my choice."

The spirit looked around for a while and laughed. "Well it's obvious you didn't come here by your own will. You have no magic power that would allow you to do so. I could send you back, but I suspect you didn't come alone. Whoever sent you here must have come with you. If he is not defeated here he'll just send you back."

_That old mage must be hunting the others, I've got to help them._

The mage that sent them here was old but he wore the cowl of an Antivan mage. The Crows had mage assassins because they could get away with a murder without drawing suspicions. Poisons and spells made for stealthy assassinations. Zevran once worked with a mage assassin, on the very job that Loghain had hired him to do. To kill Tomas and Alistair. She was an elf like himself they were partners on four jobs and developed a unique friendship, and she had quite the sexual appetite. She seduced and bedded most of the men Zevran had been assigned including Zevran himself. _Sweet Silana. Shame she had to die._ Silana died by an arrow through the throat, the arrow was shot from Leliana's bow during the battle. In retaliation Zevran went straight for Leliana, hoping to slash her throat but alas fate dictated he would not take her life, Tomas tripped him over and bisected a fellow Antivan, Alarico in one stroke. Alarico was following behind Zevran hoping to kill Sten who had already killed two of the assassins.

The memories of his former comrade's death were etched into his mind, yet he felt nothing for their deaths. He only knew two of them personally. Alarico and Silana, he missed them, but at the same time was glad they were gone. They were only loyal to coin and the Crows. He had found true friends after that.

"I hope to find my friends as well as the mage." Zevran said.

"I can help you, mortal."

The spirit waved his hand around, magical energy swirled around his palm and soon two trees near by curved, almost touching each other. In the gap a purple portal opened, it rippled like water on a windy day, but of pure energy.

"Follow me. One of the mortals is near by."

* * *

The blast of magic hit a rock next to Kallian. It shattered into pieces, the power of the old man's magic had grown in the Fade. She was tried, her legs hurt from the running. Ever since she arrived in the Fade she ran as fast as she could. The old man was near her and hunted her fire intense bursts of magic energy towards her.

_Thank the Maker he can't hit anything._

Just as she was pleased with herself a blast of heat hit her, sending her tumbled to the ground. _Shit!_

She would hear the old man crooked laugh, he knew he had hit her. The laughing grew closer and closer. _I don't want to die here, _she thought.

"You played your part in this hunt well. But I win-" Before he could say anymore the Fade began to shake again, this time it was intense. The ground between cracked, the sound shocked both of them. The ground kept shacking and the crack opened up further, the man back away. For a moment she thought she was safe, but then the part of the ground she was on dropped. She looked up at the old man as the part of the platform she was began to fall further and further away. It looked as if she would sink into the depth of the Fade. She cursed the Fade, she expect to fall for eternity, but the gaping maw of blackness began to _consume _some of the debris from the platform.

She cursed and the accepted the end…

…only it never came. The platform—or what was left of it—stopped. By some miracle it stopped in time. But a new problem posed itself, how would she get back up? She was stuck down here from what she could see. Now she wanted the quick embrace of death now rather than a slow death.

She stood for what seemed like days, but in truth it was only a minute. The ground shuck again but not as intense as before, which got her into this mess in the first place. Two arching dead trees emerged from the ground a purple light formed in the centre of it and Zevran and another thing emerged from it.

"Kallian, quickly come with me." He shouted.

Without thinking she ran towards him and embraced him. "I've missed you too." He said in such a way that made her want to slap him. "Quickly! I can't hold his platform any longer." The thing said. Together Zevran and Kallian stepped into the purple light. On the other side. Kallian could see hundreds of platforms all hovering about the green sky of the Fade. She decided that she hated the Fade. Everything was twisted here from the buildings to the trees and the ground. It didn't feel…alive.

"Now all we need to do is find, Tomas and Sidona." Zevran said, patting Kallian on the back. "Got more than you bargained for, eh?"

"Yes. This place…I want to leave it now. Tomas and Sidona can escape by themselves." She said, coldly.

"Ahem we can't unless we kill that mage. Otherwise he will just send us back one we get back to the real world."

"He is right." The thing agreed with Zevran.

"First we should locate Tomas. He has experience with the Fade. Sidona is a mage she should be fine."

"This Tomas you speak of. Is he that old man?" The thing asked, it was confused. "I thought you were running from that man?"

"No that's not our friend. Tomas is a Grey Warden, like Sidona." Zevran said, there was worry in his voice.

"There are only four people entered the Fade. I know where they all are. But there is no sigh of a fifth person." The thing admitted.

"What?! No, no you must be mistake Tomas was sent here as well. I'm sure of it."

"Yeah, if we are here and Sidona is here then so is Tomas." Kallian said, defiantly she felt foolish for wanting to leave without Tomas and Sidona, now it seems she'd be leaving with only Zevran and Sidona.

"I'm sorry, but four entered, three elves and human male mage. I know these things." It said, it looked at one of the platforms overhead.

"Some help you are. Why are you helping us anyways? I though spirits stayed out of mortal affairs?" Kallian asked, her eyes said it all. She didn't trust this "spirit".

"I'm helping because of him. He has been through so much and continued in spite of such things." It pointed a gauntleted hand at Zevran.

"Tomas has been through more. Why didn't you appear before him?" Zevran was getting angry, he never let his emotions get the better of him. He liked to maintain a cool professional demeanour about him at all times.

"Like I have said before. Your friend never came though. I would never lie!" It said, defiantly.

"Then where is he?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's notes: This chapter was remade as the original with the Old Gods didn't really sit well with me, after thinking the matter over I've decided to remove it. If you are reading this for the first time please enjoy and drop a review.**

* * *

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Tomas woke up to the sound of screams and battle. Steel clashed against steel and the roars of darkspawn echoed in distance. This was a battle against overwhelming amount of darkspawn, corpses littered the ground, soldiers from Orlais, Tevinter. The Free Marches and even Qunari lay mutilated in front of him. Nightmare, a terrible, terrible nightmare. The fires roared endlessly in the background of the battle, through the flames he noticed the ruined castle in the background, it was the Royal Palace. And this was a Blight—that ended in humanity's destruction. Even the combined armies of the world couldn't stop this Blight.

Tomas looked again to the field of corpses, an aged Alistair was impaled on a darkspawn spike, his arms were gone and his throat looked like it had been gnawed at by some hungry darkspawn. Tomas turned away in disgust holding back tears. His friend was dead and defiled by the creatures. Was this the future then?

Suddenly, the naked form of Leliana walked from the flames, she didn't seem to care that she was bare, she walked elegantly past the bodies singing such a sweet song in her soft Orlesian accent.

He was amazed to see her beauty here in a place full of death and ugliness. A pang of regret washed over him, he had ended his romance with her the night before the end of the Fifth Blight, hoping to spare her the pain of his passing. She was upset and despite his rejection of her she still followed him into battle against the darkspawn. Now she was here, and angel amongst the field of death and chaos. He felt like she was here to free him from this place.

She stood in front of him and smiled.

"My love," she softly said, her smile was slowly fading. "you still live? Are you real?" she said, as if amazed of his very presence. She stroked his cheek gently.

"Yes, I'm still alive…I think?" He replied, holding her hand against his cheek.

This was some sort of dream it must be a demons trick, and a cruel one at that. He broke off and stepped back from the thing that looked like Leliana, she sobbed as he backed off. "You don't want me? After all these year you still don't want to be with me?" She said through tears.

"I was brought to the Fade by a mage, you're a demon who trapped me here!" he yelled. The bodies on the floor disappeared, Leliana too. A Desire Demon took her place. The female form was out for Tomas to see, it caressed one its breasts and sighed.

"I took you as soon as you entered the Fade. You hide such a power within you that I want. But you found me out too quickly, such a shame. A spirit is looking for you, I have shielded you from his sights for now. I shall let you go if you answer me one question." It said, moving closer to him, it wrapped its tail around him and pushed her body against his.

"What is the question demon?" He asked. A demon asking a question usually ended in the demon wanting something in return. He prepared himself for whatever request it would ask and attack it.

"Do you still love her? Leliana?" It whispered into his ear.

Why would a demon wish to know that? Why would it care? This was something new entirely, a demon wishing know if someone loves another person. Was it trying to understand what love is? Or use his answer to manipulate him and twist his will to it's? All the Desire Demons he had met before wanted nothing more than to possess a mage to see the wakening world, or twist a person by granting that persons desires before killing or possessing them. The question also made him think. It had been a month and Leliana left, his feelings for her…had gone.

"I used to love her." He said. "Now I don't."

The demon broke away and smiled, it turned into Flora, his first elven love this shocked him greatly she had been dead for many years. "I apologize, but I needed to borrow the demons form to well, mess with you." She said, with a giggle. She didn't even look any older, she looked the same as when she did when they were teenagers.

"Why do you—" he tried to finishes but she moved in and hushed him with her finger.

"I want you to know that the Fade is not place for you to be right now. The power inside you, your not ready to know about it yet. The Fade...will not be kind to you. When you get there, quickly find your friends and kill the mage that brought you here. When he dies then you will escape the Fade." she said, tear built up in here eyes. "This is the last time we will meet each other for a long time."

"Wait. Whats going on what are you talking about!" He shouted.

Before he do anything a white light emerged and consumed him. He knew he was on his way to the Fade

* * *

Sidona had walked for what seemed like hours. The Fade was not a helpful place, all she knew of the place was thrown out the window as the Fade continually shifted. The demons were lurking around, watching her but not attacking her. That other demon from before unsettled her. She study all forms of demons before and that demon was new to her. _If the Chantry allowed better exploration of the Fade more often, then we would be better equipped to deal with demons. But no, they don't allow it out of fear that we might turn into abominations. It's there idiocy that will end us all. Without knowing the enemy how do we face against it? I swear they don't allow us to research more because they want an excuse to kill us._

It was obvious to her that that demon held more power than the established hierarchy of demons that the Circle of Magi years past. If so then it was surely more powerful and dangerous. It summoned rage demons and changed the very environment to suit its will. She could imagine the horror it could unleash in the waking world, it was subtle and it knew many things. The encounter had unnerved her it knew why she was here and who came with her. It disguised it all too well, and Sidona knew that it allowed her to know. Damn demons.

Making her way up a flight of stairs, she saw a broken down castle in the distance, wisps were floating around occasionally two would come close together and repel each other with the sound of lightning cracking. Wisps were weak spirits and were drawn to large amounts of magical energy. And there was a lot of magic energy swirling around the air in the castle. Whatever was causing it was inside the castle, a demon or spirit, Sidona couldn't tell. She noticed her magic was stronger even from the distance she was at.

Castles and structures in general were a hot topic back in the Circle, all structures in the Fade are representations of real world buildings from gathered from thousands of years of mankind dreaming. If true then why did this castle look nothing like the architecture from any other civilizations? Was it that old and forgotten?

Since mage's were not allowed to explore the Fade as much, thanks to the Chantry then the magic anomaly that was coming off the castle would have been well researched and not so alien.

The closer she got the castle she felt a sense of danger. Not from the castle itself, but rather all around her. Was the Fade playing tricks? Then it came at her from overhead, a giant snake! It was fast, too fast before she knew it was around her. The snake wasn't a spirit in the Fade, magic was at work. Shape shifting, a forgotten art, passed down by clans of apostates.

"I have you now my prey." It hissed in an all too familiar voice.

* * *

**Extra Author's notes: Flora will be breifly explained in Chapter Fifteen and later on I'll will write a short story about what happened to her.**


	14. Chapter 14

**I'm back early because of reasons. Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Landsmeet chamber was always so cold, even today when it was hot and full of bann's and arls hoping for guidance from there new king. Each one had at least a dozen or more request and demands—mainly demands. Arl Eamon Guerrin sat next to Alistair, his regent who was teaching him how to rule. The purple sags under his eyes were clearly seen by all. Alistair felt bad for him, but he didn't know what to do to make it up to him, if he could make it up to him.

"Of course Bann Rylan, we can spare fifty of the King's Guard to help rid your lands of the darkspawn stragglers." Eamon grimly said.

_You just promised him something that we cannot do Eamon and you know it, _Alistair thought, becoming more depressed as Bann Rylan bowed low and smiled. Bann Rylan was new to his post, he took lands from a previous Bann who was killed during the Blight. Tomas told him of numerous new bann's popping up and warned him about trusting any of them. Eamon said the same thing, could Eamon be given him empty promises? Who knew with Eamon?

Time seemed to slow to a complete halt, the suffering of an entire country was laid down in front of him. Alistair couldn't help but feel helpless, powerless to do anything. He wanted to put things right after the Blight, but nothing was like what he had imagined it at all. Tomas agreed with Alistair that he wouldn't make a good king, but only helped put him on the throne to keep Anora from taking it. Eamon told him that the Theirin was the heritage of Fereldan, it was something to fight for and a sign of hope.

He didn't feel like he was inspiring hope in the people, he felt like he was adding to their anguish. He tried to help the elves, but was advised by Eamon against it. "Once we rebuild our strength then we should help the elves. The Bannorn will see this as an act of weakness that you put the lives of elves before their lives." He had said, it was bigotry, the old way of thinking. Alistair befriended elves on his journey with Tomas to help stop the Blight, they were good people and it was wrong what humans did to them. They helped during the Blights when they were not expected to.

In his typical fashion he went behind Eamon's back and made Shianni the first elven bann in Fereldan history it was his hope that she would help the elves, but some of the nobles decided to take matters into their own hands and hinder her efforts to rebuild the alienage. Eamon had _actually _forbidden him from doing such a stunt again, but the damage was done.

The last of the bann's had left, leaving the common folk with requests. Thankfully there were only three a scrawny man, a stout male dwarf and a timid looking woman with auburn hair. The dwarf step forward—more like pushed forward—and knelled before Alistair who was sitting on the throne on the stone dais.

"Where to begin." The stout dwarf muttered. He was surprisingly beardless, his hair was short and grey and he had thick black eyebrows. His nose was a bloated red ball, from some infection it would seem—that or he had a cold—unlikely. "Ah yes, my arms and armour were stolen last night. It took some digging around and ten sovereigns for bribes but I found the group of stone senseless fools who took them. I wish for justice and the retrieval of my fine goods." He arrogantly barked.

Of course he was a smith, it seems all surface dwarfs were smiths. And these arms and armour were for the army of course. All smiths in the city were smiting night and day to arm the men and women of the army. The kingdom needed that army in case any of the other countries decide to take advantage of Fereldan's weakened state. The primary concern was hostilities from Orlais, despite the Empress' assurances, Alistair and many nobles felt nervous of the prospect of a second Orlesian invasion.

"Can we spare any man power?" Alistair asked Eamon, and braced himself for a cold answer. But to his surprise Eamon replied. "Yes, the city guard are equip enough to take possession of the goods. I will instruct them to follow the dwarf to the men's hideout." Eamon was calm and collected, which was good. It seemed the stress from before was melting away. _Good I hope he can come out of this the same man._

Fereldan's economy was exhausted by Loghain's war and Rendon Howe's embezzling. It was slowly recovering, very slowly, all the coin was going into the rebuilding of Denerim. The other nobles were using their own fortunes to rebuild their lands that too was going slow, slower than the rebuilding of the capital. The common folk were looking for work and helping each other—most of the time. But they were growing restless, the kingdom was in disorder and they knew it.

The stout dwarf bowed his head in thanks and quickly shot up, waddling away from the dais. The timid looking girl took a breath and walked forward, she looked well off, and her clothes looked clean and new so she must have had the coin to purchase clothing for meeting royalty. She managed a cute little smile a curtsied. "Your majesty." she began, before fumbling backwards awkwardly. Alistair barely contain a snigger, Eamon turned to face him giving him a look saying. "Be more respectful to your subjects."

_Ouch, he's not pulling any punches on his scowls today._

The woman straightened herself and knelt before the dais, she kept her head bowed low. _Is she waiting for me to allow her to talk? _This was the first time he had encountered someone like this, she, like him didn't know what to do in this situation.

"You may speak. I don't bite…honest." Alistair said, making a face. His words cause the man to laugh a bit and the guards chuckled. Eamon sighed, disapproving of his choice of words. But Alistair couldn't help it, it was who he was and he wasn't going to change because of inheriting the throne. During his time helping to fight against the Blight, Tomas always talked to people and helped them with any problems they had. This influenced him, seeing how successful they were in helping the trouble folk during the Blight.

The woman smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. Her auburn hair was warm to look at it was smooth, great effort went into it by the look of it. She raised her head and looked directly at Alistair with her dark green eyes. Alistair couldn't help but blush a bit.

"Your majesty, I request the crowns aid in building an orphanage in Denerim. The darkspawn incursion has left many children without parents. The Chantry has allowed some to shelter with them, but they are being made to swear oaths and affirm their belief in the Maker." She said, keeping her composure when speaking.

"The Chantry is well within their right to do so." Eamon chimed in. Eamon believed in the Maker, he was cured from a deadly poison by Andraste's ashes making him completely devoting himself to the Maker. Alistair found himself sighing, he had seen the Chantry treated children from the inside, when Eamon shipped him there on Lady Isolde's suggestion. He hated it there, and he could sympathize with the children sent there. He could almost picture the children disobeying the Cleric's commands, vandalizing statutes of Andraste. It made him laugh inside.

The woman glared at Eamon. "That is true but the Chantry should adhere to the laws of the kingdom they operate in—"

"There are no laws to say the Chantry cannot recruit children into the ranks." Eamon interrupted again.

"There should be. The Chantry may have good intentions but they are evil people within their ranks and those in charge abuse their positions, and there excuse is 'it is the Makers will' these children will be conditioned and brainwashed by the Chantry. The boys will grow up as Lyrium addicted Templars while the girls will grow up to be preaching priests in faraway temples." She paused and took a deep breath.

Eamon glared at her he was not a one for religious debates, they wore his patients down too much. Alistair on the other hand felt moved by her speech. He remembered his kind treatment back when he was a child, but times were changing. More rumours came from Kirkwall of the templar order cracking down on mages and non-believers. It didn't help when Kirkwall was technically under the complete control of the Chantry. Alistair believed in the Maker enough, but not enough to go to the Chantry every day and pray, there were something's that Alistair never liked about the Chantry, the way they got all templar's addicted to Lyrium which kept them under their control.

"Your majesty I beg of you. Give these children a choice. The Chantry or a fully staffed orphanage." She bowed her head low.

Eamon turned to face him. "It is your call but we don't have the resources to spare to make one." He said gravely. He felt that Eamon was trying to say. "We can't help all the people. Let the children stay with the Chantry they'll be safe there." He considered for a while and made up his mind. "I can give you an abandoned warehouse, you'll have to fund the rest of the project yourself. The crown regretfully cannot help fund you at the current time, repairs of the land take priority." He said, smiling he thought that he sounded regal and fair. The woman smiled at him and stood up. "Thank you your majesty, I can fund the orphanage myself with help from friends." She bowed low.

Eamon held his face, he obviously didn't approve of this move rebuilding the kingdom was hard, harder than anyone expected. Even united as Fereldan was there was still friction between the many freeholders and nobles. Alistair ignored him and turned his attention back to the young girl who was looking quite excited.

"I hope that in the future that the crown will help the orphanage." She said curtsying.

The man who was standing waiting his turn left with the girl. Alistair felt a bit jealous. The girl left her impression on him, he felt like he was developing a small crush on her. Eamon turned his attention to him, his look was the same he wore when he had other more complicated matters to discuss.

Alistair stood up, his legs were beginning to cramp and his butt was numb from sitting down on the throne for a long period of time. Eamon assured him he'd get used to it, but he wouldn't with the way he was always fidgeted on the throne. Now he prepared himself for whatever the news was.

"Fergus has refused to marry Anora, she has returned to Gwaren." Eamon said dryly. He looked exhausted, he didn't get much sleep again. Despite his best efforts to sleep Eamon continued his work coordinating the various groups of stonemasons and smiths in rebuilding the capital. Some days Alistair believed he was taking advantage of Eamon's position but all in court knew Alistair was inexperienced and so they went to Eamon instead.

The news about Anora panicked him, Anora was a smart political creature who knew more about running a kingdom then both Cailan and Alistair did combined. Without the marriage she would more than likely try to rebel against the throne. So Alistair thought.

"What how could he? What is Anora planning? Is she raising an army? He demanded.

"Calm down lad. She isn't to the best of my knowledge, she is settling into her father's role as heir to his lands. Fergus doesn't want an arranged marriage so he refused. It is his right to of course. He said in his message he'd rather find love again on his own terms. And besides she signed the agreement to not raise and army in front of witnesses and the Grand Cleric. The agreement didn't say she actually had to marry Fergus. If she has betrayed us our allies would act and she knows it." Eamon chuckled. Alistair couldn't help but think that that was Tomas' plan all along.

"Well…I guess we can invite her over and joke about the time she wanted to KILL me over a nice cup of tea." He sarcastically declared.

Eamon sighed. "Well you may have to have tea with her, she will forget about the past. She knew as well as I that her leadership would not be a stable one. She has so few allies after Loghain's scheming."

After the Landsmeet that ended Loghain's short tyrannical reign the nobles seeing what he would do to keep Fereldan safe, were applaud. Even if the nobility were to defeat the Blight without the Grey Wardens, it would have been a temporary victory. Then the country would fall into another civil war that would completely destroy Fereldan. The fact that Anora would not find many political allies for a rebellion against the throne, soothed Alistair.

"Is that all. Can I go now?" Alistair asked, words dripping of boredom. Eamon looked at Alistair and nodded. "Thanks and get some sleep Eamon. The kingdom won't fall into chaos without you." Alistair softly said. Eamon smiled. "I appreciate your concern but I'm fine. But some sleep would do me good."

Alistair exited the Landsmeet chamber, Ser Cauthrien had been waiting for. She was shadowed by two guards. He hadn't seen Ser Cauthrien since she escorted Anora back to Gwaren. She bowed her head to Alistair, he'd never gotten used to seeing her so…loyal. She had tried to kill him before when she tried to stop him and Tomas from ending Loghain's plan a month ago.

"Your majesty." She said.

Alistair never did like being escorted about the palace, no one ever dared to attack and why would they? But he today he had a feeling that he would need his escort. Fereldan was united and from what Alistair had seen of the commoners they were happy that they had a king of the Theirin bloodline on the throne once more. Ser Cauthrien had sworn to guard him from harm, her way of making up for her mistake.

"Ser Cauthrien, you take your work to seriously so please take a day off tomorrow." Alistair offered, but he knew she wouldn't take it.

Judging by the face she had made Cauthrien wasn't going to take it, the two guardsmen behind her walked ahead of her. "You know I can't leave you unguarded your majesty. There is foul rumours of assassins that stalk the capital and it would be prudent to be safe than sorry." She said.

Alistair stood in confusion. Assassins here in the capital what rumours was she listening to now he wondered. She was always tracing rumours that held threats to the king and properly saw that justice was given if proven true, but today, the rumour she had heard had her worried.

There was no arguing with her so Alistair followed her. She smiled.

The palace was nearly empty, a few servants cleaning the floors and guards dotted around important areas. The stone work and carpets looked the same as in Eamon's estate, even the doors. Alistair liked to believe that the same architect that designed all the castles in Fereldan, but after seeing Highever's mighty castle, his belief was shot down.

The blue carpet in the hallway was worn and falling to pieces Alistair had the servants order a new one to be made, something a bit more regal and kingly.

His mind drifted to thoughts of Anora. What was she doing? Would she actually honour the agreement she signed? Eamon seemed to think so, but Eamon thought Cailan would live a full life. Anora was always planning something, she was the true voice for Cailan during his rule and she was still well loved by the people and still despised by the nobility.

Cauthrien shadowed him, he was going to meet with a wealthy merchant with a proposal today. Eamon didn't know about it, he kept the information away from Eamon so that he wouldn't have more stress in his day. Alistair was confident that he could handle one merchant.

To keep Eamon from learning of the meeting, Alistair arranged the meeting to be held in the palace's courtyard. At first he thought it was silly to meet there, but Eamon would be busy writing letters to nobles. _Lucky for me Eamon takes everything seriously, I wish he'd listen to me and get some sleep._

The courtyard was empty, save for one man shadowed by two hooded guards. Alistair clearly remembered that the man said he'd come alone. This was suspicious, and it seems Cauthrien thought so to. She eyed the men with suspicion and whispered into one of the royal guard's ear.

It seems he was right about needed his guard today.

"You said you'd come alone king." The man said.

"You said you would too. What changed?" Alistair responded quickly. The man in the centre had introduced himself as Hugo, an Antivan merchant that came to Fereldan before the Blight. He told Alistair he could help boost the kingdom's economy. Alistair at first was doubtful but he thought a little meeting couldn't hurt just to see what kind of plan it was and if it was a scam. Now by the looks of it, it was a trap. _I fell for it, Tomas is going to laugh at me._

"You have doomed your men king. You didn't have to bring them here." Hugo said, taking out a dagger from his belt. His guards un-sheathed their swords from their backs.

"Assassins!" Cauthrien yelled, drawing her Summer Sword from its scabbard. "Protect the King!" One of the King Guardsmen ran towards Hugo's men, sword in the air ready to kill. In an instant he fell to the floor a knife in his throat.

_When did he?_

Cauthrien ran at the man who threw the knife and swung her sword but he nimble dodged the strike and immediately went for a counter attack. Cauthrien was shocked when the man kicked her to the floor. She rolled around and stood up a little wobbly, but that was expected.

Alistair was sick of watching other people protect him. The sword from the fallen guardsmen was still next to the dead man, the other assassin was preoccupied fighting to notice him. Alistair dashed towards the body and grabbed the longsword at quickly dropped into a defensive stance.

Hugo still stood where he was, not moving with a smile on his face. The assassin fighting had already killed the last guardsmen, the guards head rolled towards his feet. Alistair heart sank seeing the man's head. He had talked to the man this morning over breakfast the man didn't deserve death at the hands of an assassin.

The assassin charged at him, hissing as his leaped. The move was similar to the one that Zevran's companion used when he ambushed Alistair and friends during the Blight. With one simple manoeuvre, Alistair ran his blade through the man's chest as he was about to land. Simple. Cauthrien was having a harder time with the other assassin, he was fast and used his speed to wear down Cauthrien's stamina. But Cauthrien wasn't backing down to the surprise of the assassin.

Alistair turned to face Hugo but he was gone. Alistair looked around the courtyard, there was no sign of him. He had vanished into thin air. A loud _clank_ turned Alistair's focus to where Cauthrien was fighting, she was kneeling, a knife in the back of her leg. Hugo was standing metres behind her. The hooded assassin dove at her with both his daggers, but Cauthrien tackled him. Alistair ran towards Hugo and swung at the man, Hugo ducked and dodged as quickly as the other assassin.

Skilled assassins these two were, unlike the one that Alistair had killed before. They were quick on their feet and knew how to fight armoured men. But Alistair was not armoured, he was wearing his royal outfit and now that he remembered that he was going to be extra careful around them.

Cauthrien swung her greatsword again cutting nothing but air, she limped towards her foe ignoring the pain from her leg. Alistair concentrated on Hugo, who was passing his dagger from one hand to the other, mocking Alistair trying to bait him into attacking. But Alistair didn't take the bait, instead Alistair taunted him with a simple gesture of his middle finger.

Hugo face turned from red, from anger, or something else who could say. Alistair moved slowly waiting for Hugo to make his move first. Hugo moved quick but not quick enough, Alistair attacked bringing his steel down and Hugo, Hugo's attempt to block was unsuccessful and he lost his hand because of it. Hugo held the stub where his hand once was, gritting his teeth and cursing through the pain, blood spewed out from between his fingers, he wasn't holding tightly enough.

It seemed Hugo was not used to fighting his opponent one on one, or a trained templar, typical low rate assassin. The other assassin fighting Cauthrien seemed skilled but he was dodging and only attacking when Cauthriens guard was down, even with her guard down it didn't seem to stop her blocking the attacks. The second assassin backed down and drooped his dagger and pleaded for mercy. Cauthrien wasn't listening and sung her greatsword horizontally, bifurcating the poor man.

"You didn't have to kill him Cauthrien. We need information on these men." Alistair yelled, he didn't expect Cauthrien to kill yelled men. She panted, her leg wound paining her greatly as the adrenaline began to fade from her system.

"We already have a captive. We'll just have to make sure he lives from his injuries." Cauthrien pointed out.

"Well…don't tell Eamon that we went behind his back…promise?" Alistair said behind a cheeky smile.

Cauthrien smiled and winched in pain. "Don't worry your majesty…I won't."

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**Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the first chapter with Alistair as lead role. Please tell me if you thought Eamon, Alistair and Cauthrien were in character or out of character.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Nearly done now. Just a few more chapters (or more depending on how little I write) to go until the end of Aftershock. I didn't really enjoy writing most of this chapter, I had to rewrite a ton of times. But now it's done and over with and I'm sort of happy with how I ended it. Drop a review all criticism is appreciated. **

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Sidona opened eyes and was greeted by complete darkness. It was cold, she could here water droplets hitting the ground nearby her heart began to beat rapidly as her imagination of what was around her began to get out of control. The last thing she remembered was being caught by the mage who brought her and the others to the Fade, then nothing. She couldn't remember anything after that moment.

She noticed the feeling of iron manacles on her wrists, the chain was attached to the floor preventing her from escaping. The manacles also blocked her magic energy from building up, always with the magic blocking manacles she thought.

She struggled to get the manacles off her all she managed to do was hurt her wrists, they were on tight, she was stuck here, wherever here is. Her mind wandered to the mage, he had shape-shifted into a giant snake the magic he had used was forbidden by Chantry law, which meant that he learnt his magic from an apostate. Apostates were notorious for not knowing much about the Fade and the different classes of demons, luckily she was taught but her experience with the demon from earlier made her doubt her how much she actually knew.

She slowly stood up, her back ached and her legs were shackled further restricting her movements. The mage didn't want her moving from this position it would seem. She looked around, her eyes had begun adjusting to the darkness now and she began to make little bits of the surrounding out. She was on a dais, she could make out the first three steps in front of her. Arching her head she noticed a stone throne, dwarven made by the looks of it. Even in dreams dwarven masonry looked beautiful. Finally, she had an idea of where she was. The stone castle she was outside before she was caught.

But why was she captured and not killed. It was the mages intent to kill them in the Fade to make it "more fun" for him. Then why spare her? Unless he had other plans for her? The thought made her stomach turn, the thought of being a Shem's plaything made her both angry and disgusted. _Never again, _she thought.

Minutes later light slowly began to illuminate the entire room allowing her eyes to slowly adjust to the light. The old mage hobbled towards her, nurturing a wound on his lower torso. He laboured for breath making it as far as the bottom the dais before falling on the floor, wheezing. This mage was strong enough to pull non mages into the Fade without lyrium, he was a dreamer, a rare mage indeed. Now he struggled to stand in a world of dreams. He struggled to get back up from the ground, he cursed something under his breath. Sidona sat in silence watching the old mage feeble attempts to get up. She wanted nothing more than to end his misery so she could escape the Fade with the others and stop the Crows plot.

The man lay on the steps, silent, breathing sallow. The shackles and manacles came off by themselves. She carefully stepped towards the elder mage, staring at his motionless form with contempt. She could end it right now and get everyone out of the Fade, she could save Tomas and the other from whatever nightmare they'd found themselves in. But she hesitated. Instead she kneeled down and cast a healing spell, magical energy erupted from her hand and covered him in a bright blue light of shining brilliance.

The hole in his torso closed up too quickly, very suspicious though this was the Fade, she never actually had the chance to heal anyone in here. Almost immediately he took in deep breaths, she backed off ready in case he made a move to cast a spell. The elder mage drank the air from the Fade deeply, he seemed to be lost, his face lined with confusion on his current whereabouts. Without warning he crawled backwards in a fit of fear, Sidona glance behind her in case someone—or something—was behind her. Nothing was there, quickly looking back to the man who now trembling. He began speaking in Antivan, rambling on about something she didn't understand. She wished she learnt the Antivan language now, just so she could understand his ramblings. She had the opportunity a year ago, Narder had offered to teach her so she could understand the Warden-Constable. She had refused, politely, despite Jardukr's instance that she might find it useful one day.

Dammed dwarf was right.

Sidona took a step forwards, but the old man shielded his face expecting to be struck. What had happened to this man? Her question was answered when a pillar of flames covered the throne. The demon she had encountered upon her arrival to the Fade sat on the throne, its female form was different now, covered in glowing red cracks across its face and body. Its eyes were closed they flashed deep red upon opening. It looked at the old mage and frowned. Sidona summoned a ball of fire over the palm of her hand, the demon looked at her and…did nothing.

"That won't work on me my dear mage. I control fire magic." It said in its dual voice. It waved its hand and the ball of fire extinguished in a puff of black smoke. The smoke stung her eyes, but she forced herself to keep looking at the demon. Her eyes watered but still she looked at the demon waiting for it to make a move. Why should she wait? She sent a flurry of lightning from her hand at the demon, the blue lightning added more light to the room. Over the sounds of cracking lighting she made out the scared cries of the old mage. She knew she had hit her target, the question was did it have any effect on the demon?

The smoke cleared the demon was unfazed. Distressed she prepared another spell, but before she could cast wood branches emerged and wrapped around her. The branches cut into her skin, ruining her robes in the process.

"Don't move. The branches will get tighter and you don't want that. I'd rather you not die, I have questions for you mage." It said, it sounded rushed.

"Why would I answer your questions demon?" Sidona calmly said, allowing her body to relax so the branches would not tighten further.

The demon quickly stood up. "I have no time for your mortal games! Tell me what I wish to know!" It yelled.

Sidona was dumbfounded. Was this not the same demon from before? The calm and patient demon that used words instead of action to sway its prey. It felt like the same demon, though it looked different and it sounded the same. "What do you want to know?" She responded, carefully, not wishing to anger the demon further.

"The…thing that attacked the man…what did it look like…what magic did it use?" It stuttered. It was fearful. What was it afraid of?

"I don't know what you are talking about." She replied. She was telling the truth she couldn't remember what happened after being caught. She tried to remember but there was nothing. No memories of the events that happened afterwards. She'd assumed that the mage took her here and after that, well she had no answers.

"No! No! No!" It yelled, flames formed on its head, mimicking hair. What was going on that would make a demon this scared? It sighed and calmed down and turned its attention to the old mage.

"His name was Gaston." It said. Sidona assumed it was talking to her.

"I didn't know his name. And what do you mean _was_?"

"His mind is gone. Taken by…by that _thing_."

The branches receded Sidona walked up to the unconscious form of the Gaston. Gaston, it sounded so…Orlesian. He must have passed out from fear of both the demon and her. Sidona backed off, putting as much distance from her and the demon as possible.

"Whatever _it _is. It's searching for something. One of your friends perhaps." It said, coldly.

Sidona looked at Gaston. The man lost his mind to…something and still the spell that held her and the other here was still in effect. No, something was wrong. And she had a small idea of what it could be.

"Stop the act. You're trying to trick me, you're working with this man aren't you?" She sneered.

Gaston stood up and smiled. "So clever. The circle teaches its students well. When did you suspect?" he asked coldly.

"When you entered with your wound healed too quickly. And the fact you muttered something. Possibly a delayed spell to unbind me." She said slowly backing away. Gaston laughed, the demon gave off a wicked smile.

"Clever girl, but why did you help me then? Surely you suspected?" He taunted.

She knew why, she wanted to use him get information out of him and then kill him. But she wouldn't say anything not now, not when anything she said could end badly for her. A demon with more power and knowledge than her and a dreamer who could shape the Fade to his will, yes, if she chose to fight it would be a one sided battle that she would no doubt lose.

Gaston paced to the stone throne in the centre of the room and sat down, it changed to a more Antivan looking throne, complete with padded cushions and decorated with jewels. The room changed so fast she barely had time to see what the room looked like before the change.

"Like what I've done? The Fade bends to my will." He started, staring at Sidona. "All my life I've evaded the demons in the Fade by never sleeping, now, now I seek the demons. I make them offers of power and other sacrifices and in return they teach me. This one, this 'knowledge' demon is my newest weapon in my demon arsenal."

Sidona watched as the man's age regressed, he looked in his early twenties, full of life than the miserably looking fifty year old man. "A fitting change, I've never liked aging, soon, I'll conquer time and be immortal. Never ending like the Fade." He said smugly.

"So why are the Crows trying to make Antiva the dominate power of Thedas?" She asked, changing the subject from his mad ramblings on gaining immortality. He was clearly being used by this demon, despite his confidence he was using it, this demon seemed to be more intelligent than most others. Gaston would be betrayed sooner or later. Sidona hoped it would be soon.

Gaston smiled a youthful smile and adjusted himself on the throne. "Once Antiva has the control over most of Thedas then the Crows will become extremely wealthy. Coin _was _the influence, then you messed up the plan by warning Celene. With Celene's attention on the Crows we lost more than we would have gained, the Empress raided all know Crow cell hideouts in Orlais in response for the planned attempts on her life. In the Free Marches, our outpost was sacked and the cell executed as an example. To save face the plan was put down by the rest of the Crows and the king fell into disgrace and met with a horrible _accident_."

"Then why are the Crows still going ahead with the plan?" Sidona demanded.

Gaston laughed. "What makes you think that the rest of the Crows know?" He continued to laugh.

"So, a Crow cell has gone rouge. And you're targeting Fereldan because it currently is the weakest country in Thedas because of the Fifth Blight." She summarized.

"Well done." He sarcastically said.

She glared at him, he was looking arrogant and before she knew it she was restrained by manacles again. She was dragged to the floor as the chain tugged her down. She managed to look back up and see Gaston looking down at her.

"My little elf. I have plans for you." He smiled wickedly.

She shivered as he touched her cheek. She hoped that someone would come for her, maybe Tomas or Zevran, Kallian would be a more welcome sight.

Flora, she was the daughter of an elven servant in Castle Highever, they'd used to play on the walls of the castle causing the guards fits each time they caught them climbing. They were more concerned about Tomas than the elf he was with and would normally blame her for leading him up there. Despite this Tomas always sought her out when he had time to spare from his lessons. As the years went by the two got up to all sorts of mischief, he wouldn't have it any other way. On his fifteenth name day, Tomas was given a Mabari hound, which he named Barkspawn, as a joke. With Barkspawn in toe, he and Flora got into even more mischief.

Soon after, Flora admitted her love for him, he too felt the same way. It was hard to keep their relationship secret, there were months at a time where they never saw each other due to Flora's parents looking for work around Cousland lands. Then one day all that changed, the memory flooded in, too painful to go through again. Tomas woke up in Fade again, the image of Flora had shielded him from the Fade, now he could _feel _the Fade. He noticed that he felt strange, numb, he never felt this way the first time he was in the Fade.

He noticed a castle in front of him, the massive stone doors wide open, almost as if they were inviting him in. His attention turned from the castle to a loud echoing scream, it chilled his blood it sounded as if it was coming from everywhere. Whatever it was it was angry and strangely it felt like its anger was directed at…_him._

"Tomas! My friend!" A thick Antivan accent, a loud voice, which could only mean Zevran was here too.

Before he turned around he noticed something next to Zevran, a spirit. Turning he saw the spirit in-between Zevran and Kallian. How did he notice the spirit before he saw him?

"Did you guys hear that scream?" He asked, surprised at himself for asking that.

Zevran cocked an eyebrow in confusion and looked at Kallian. "What scream?"

Tomas looked back at the castle. _I'm I hearing things now? _He thought to himself. He turned to the spirit it looked as confused as Zevran did. It shock its head.

"You just appeared in the Fade. What happened to you mortal?" It asked.

"I was being held. By…" he didn't want to say _my former elven lover._ "A demon."

The spirit nodded accepting his story. "Ah no wonder, demons never like to share their prey. You are lucky you escaped." It said, not knowing that he had more experience with demons than he'd like. Zevran looked at the foreboding structure in front of them. Tomas saw him shiver, Kallian gulped they were all nervous.

"Sidona is in there." Zevran managed to say. "And so is the man who sent us here."

Tomas knew what he had to do, kill the man and they would be free of the Fade—until someone or something else sent them back. The scream roared again, it felt closer this time.

"There it is again." Tomas said, turning back to look at the blackened tree, expecting whatever made the scream to come crashing towards them.

"I don't hear anything. Are you alright?" Zevran asked he placed his hand on Tomas' shoulder.

"I'm-I'm fine. The Fade…is getting to me." He said, wryly.

*I'M COMING FOR YOU!* A voice echoed in his mind. Tomas ignored it as best he could he knew it was bad news every fibre of his being was screaming for him to run. They had to get out the Fade and quickly.

The interior of the castle was strange, it didn't fit the shape of its exterior, the angles were all wrong so was the size of the roof, it was as if someone designed the outside first then went crazy forming the insides as well. Zevran made a comment about the mental stability of the man who created this…mess. Kallian laughed to break the awkward silence.

The Fade was getting to the others he could tell, they were all worried about their bodies in the waking world. Zevran had heard that Tomas was once pulled into the Fade and now he found himself in the Fade with him. The spirit guided them towards where Sidona was, he also helped by getting them past barriers and illusion corridors.

They were making good progress, but Tomas felt something approach…something that he had no words for. It was hunting him and only him.

Passing through a large portcullis they entered what looked like a throne room. In the centre was Sidona bounded with chains, she looked at them and let out a muffled scream. Turning around quickly Tomas intercepted a swing from a stone golem, the strength of the golem was as real as the real thing and Tomas' swords flew out of his hand. The next punch sent him flying into the throne behind Sidona. His ears ringed as he slowly began to recover from the punch. It had winded him, it would take a while to recover and fight properly.

He looked at where he was and saw the spirit shooting a beam of energy at the golem, it disintegrated into a white light. Rage demons erupted from the ground grabbing Kallian and Zevran holding them in place. The spirit spun and raised his hand, cold air swirled around him. He expected the rage demons to freeze in place allowing Zevran and Kallian to shatter them but a sloth demon appeared and placed his hand though the spirits back.

Yelling in pain the spirit was forced to its knees as more demons began to emerge from the shadows. A laugh erupted from above, a human laugh. The man who sent them here landed in front of Tomas and looked at him with contempt.

"My name is Gaston. A mage of the Antivan Crows." He began looking at the demons. "These are my playthings and I thank you for securing them for me. I shall reward you all with your desires and get you bodies to which you can inhabit."

_He promised demons bodies in the real world! What is this mad man thinking?_ Tomas thought. Mustering all his strength he made his way towards his sword, the dizziness made him feel like he was going to empty his stomach at any moment. Gaston saw this and with a simply flick of his wrist Tomas flew into the wall behind him.

More pain, he felt as if his back had broken he knew that any injury in the Fade would not transfer to the real world—thankfully—but if you die in the Fade your body dies as well. He didn't want to test that.

Tomas caught Sidona looking at him, her eyes were trying to get him to look at something—his sword. His sword must have been pushed back with him—or was Sidona responsible for that? Either way he grabbed the hilt of his sword and held it tightly. Using all his strength he pulled himself up off the floor and gingerly made his way to Gaston with the intent to kill him.

Suddenly, he heard it. The voice from before it said *SO CLOSE, I'M CLOSE NOW!*

No one else seemed to have heard it. The other demons looked at him and Gaston turned to face him. Was it over? Now that he had failed?

Then dark clouds erupted from the doors, the windows everywhere! The screams were in his head, and now it seemed as everyone could hear them even the spirit and the demons. They all winched in pain as the clouds surrounded them. Gaston shot lightning at the clouds, but it had no effect. Whatever it was it was stronger than anything in the Fade.

A female looking demon erupted from the ground, being pulled out by the clouds, it was struggling to break free and before anyone knew it, the demon was consumed by the darkness. Gaston looked at where the demon once was and fell to the floor. Using this opportunity, Tomas ran at him and yelled swing his sword downward to its target. Before Gaston could react the sword hit his neck, cutting it clean off.

*NOOOO! YOU WON'T ESCAPE ME AGAIN!* the entity yelled, clouds surrounded him. It felt familiar but…he woke up.

**Note: Please re-read Chapter 13 again, it has been redone. Thanks!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Haven't had much time to work on this I've been busy around the house and work also reading some books on my Nook for inspiration for last parts of Aftershock. A short chapter but I feel it is a good one for building up romances. Enjoy and drop a review.**

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It had been three hours since they woke up, back into the real world free from the clutches of the Fade and Gaston. Sidona had told them that killing a dreamer in the Fade would only make him a Tranquil not actually kill him. Though a death in the Fade would have meant that they would die for sure. Luckily they didn't die. Though they had been close. That black cloud would have killed them all, had it not been for Tomas killing Gaston in the nick of time. No one had asked what the cloud was, thankfully. It was after Tomas, he knew it but the others did not. And he wasn't about to tell them. Better off they didn't.

Sidona kept quiet about what Gaston and the demon did to her, Tomas didn't what to pry and he kept Zevran from asking as well. Kallian kept her distance from Sidona, she voiced her fear that Sidona had been possessed by a demon. Though the thought had crossed his mind, his gut—or something else—was telling him that she wasn't possessed. He believed it, Sidona was a strong willed person that wouldn't take a demons deal in order to get power.

Leaving the manor they found it was already mid-day. The sun was a welcome sight to see.

"I'm going to the castle. Alistair will want to know what we have learnt." Tomas said turning to Sidona.

Sidona seemed to have not noticed, instead she was looking blankly at the ground.

"Right." She finally said. Her eyes lit up with a new resolve. Whatever was she thinking about?

"I'll be going back to the alienage now." Kallian announced walking towards Tomas. "Keep an eye on the mage. I don't trust her and neither should you." She whispered. Tomas couldn't blame her from his mistrust of mages, the Tevinter Imperium had lied about curing a plague in the alienage in an effort to gain access to more slaves. He had seen it first hand and put a stop to it before anymore were taken from their homes.

The journey to the palace took longer than expected. Zevran complained about being tired, while Sidona kept stopping to rest. Seems the Fade sapped their spirits, Tomas had plenty of energy to spare which raised the question of why wasn't he tired? He remembered being tired the last time he escaped the Fade back during the Blight. Maybe he was used to it. But that still didn't explain why Sidona was tired, as a mage she entered the Fade more times than regular men and women.

"I know what you're thinking and I have an answer for your question. " She said as if she had read his mind.

"Enlighten me then."

"Our spirits were in the Fade and my spirit was put under strain from the attacks by Gaston and the demon. Zevran is tired because it was his first time in the Fade and you're not tired because you've already been in the Fade once before. I'm I right?"

"Yes…you are."

_Well that was enlightening, _He thought.

They continued on the way to the castle. Tomas couldn't help but think of his experience in the Fade. He had all but forgotten about Flora, she didn't appear in the Fade before and she wasn't present during the Gauntlet trials or even mentioned so why did she appear now of all times? Now that he had seen her again the memories of their time together flooded back into his mind. All the good and the bad. He remembered her death, seeing her lifeless body again and remembering the feelings he had felt then.

"You okay?" Sidona asked.

"Yeah…I'm fine." He replied.

"Really? You're crying you know."

He hadn't realized, he wiped the hot streams off his cheeks and looked at Sidona. She had the same look in her eyes as Flora did back then. In reflection Sidona had reminded him of Flora, the sassy personality should have tipped him off. But there was also a sadness to her, she had suffered some trauma in the past and it had something to do with her magic.

"Sorry … I was thinking about someone … who I had forgotten about until now." He said, sniffing.

"Was this person special?" She asked innocently.

"She … was"

"Oh … I see now. What happened to her?"

"She died … It was my fault." He said sadly.

Sidona looked away for a moment then turned back and looked him in the eye. "I'm sure it wasn't all your fault."

The words hit him hard, it was his fault if he hadn't have … then she would still be alive. He nodded at her and she place her hand gently on his shoulder and looked at him for what seemed like a long time. They hadn't notice that Zevran had walked off in front of them until he yelled at them. With the moment broken they continued on their way.

* * *

Alistair received a verbal beat down from Eamon. Eamon had found about the assassination attempt somehow and was angered that Alistair had went behind his back. Alistair made a joke that only seemed to make Eamon angrier, Eamon had begun his own investigation into the assassin's origins and immediately Orlais came up.

"I understand why you think Orlais did this but I don't think they did." Alistair said.

"Yes, like you thought the traders weren't assassins your judgement is flawed and it leads you into dangerous situation your majesty." Eamon replied, sighing.

Alistair frowned. Eamon was right, he couldn't tell they were assassins due to his naivete, but that hadn't stopped him, he had taking precautions beforehand and he had survived the assassination attempt and even took a captive to extract information from.

The assassin was unconscious due to the shock of losing his hand, Alistair had Circle Mages heal the man. Once he wake up then the interrogation will begin, but until then Alistair had to deal with Eamon's rage. Ser Cauthrien entered the room and bowed low, her injury was treated and was back to her usual self. But she brought bad news, the assassin had commit suicide in his cell.

"How did that happen?" Alistair asked, dumbfounded.

"Assassin are a tricky bunch he must have concealed the poison on his person." She replied.

"And now you have no lead. Wonderful!" Eamon yelled. "If Tomas was here, he'd tell you what a mess you've gotten yourself into."

Alistair sank deeper into his chair, he felt like a child again being told off by the templars for disobeying their rules. He had admitted that he had made a mistake but it wasn't good enough for Eamon. Alistair knew that Eamon was trying to teach him a lesson, but he didn't need to keep going on about it. He shot up from his chair and headed towards the door.

"Where are you going!?" Eamon yelled, confused.

"I'm going to find Tomas, maybe he has a way of sorting this mess out. Maybe he has already sorted it out already and we can move on to more important stuff like parties with fancy cakes." Alistair jested.

Storming out like that may have been a bad idea, Cauthrien followed after him she was dedicated to his safety after all. She followed him until he stopped in middle of the stairs. He turned and looked at her, she was worried and even a bit frightened he hadn't noticed it before. "You don't have to follow me you know. I've told you many, many times." He said.

She looked hurt. "You know I cannot do as you command, your majesty! I've sworn to protect you even if it must mean I lose my own life." Her lower lip trembled. Alistair sensed there was "but" on it way.

"But … "

And there it was right on time. "But what?" he asked.

"But I cannot bear to watch you go out and risk your life." She softly said moving closer to him. She place her hand on his arm.

"Wait … you can't mean that … you … me? Seriously!? Since when?" he was at a loss for words. He had never expect that a woman, especially Cauthrien to feel that way towards him. _Towards him._ She moved in slowly and before he could say anything more their lips were together in a kiss. He didn't move away and accepted the kiss from his unexpected admirer.

Slowly, she backed away smiling. "Don't go … please stay here … with me." She said, it was low it might as well been a whisper. Alistair looked at her and saw the woman—not the warrior he and everyone else had known her as—a woman with feelings, feelings towards him. He was caught up in the moment he had forgotten the troubles from before.

She outstretched her hand, waiting. He took it.


End file.
